A Million Ways to be Happy
by A Million Ways
Summary: The idea started as a Galeniss fic, and evolved from there. What if Peeta alone won the 74th Hunger Games, but the rest of Panem was the same? What if Gale decides to pursue Katniss, who resists him at every turn? What if District 12 isn't Snow's biggest problem? How will the Quell turn out, and what happens to the rebellion? I promise Galeniss, starting around chapter 6.
1. District 12's Victor

I stand in the town square, transfixed by the screen in front of me. Madge slips her hand into mine and squeezes, but neither of us look away from what's occurring in front of us on national TV, the finale of the Hunger Games where only one tribute survives.

Peeta Mellark, the boy who once gave me bread, who once saved my life...the boy who joked in math class and wrestled his brothers, is fighting for his life. Peeta...who took Madge to the harvest dance last year and (according to his brothers, who I've gotten to know over the past 3 weeks) "totally dropped the ball" on kissing her. Peeta is one death away from coming home. When his brothers told the harvest dance story for the cameras, Madge had shot back that she had a wonderful time anyway, and Peeta was a _gentleman_ unlike Nick, the middle Mellark brother. Bannock, the eldest Mellark, had punched Nick in the arm, and they'd jokingly wrestled. The whole bit had made it on national TV when Peeta made the final 8.

That's what District 12 comes down to...boys to timid to kiss a girl at a dance, and brothers with nothing better to do than roll around on a sooty floor. This is why we never win.

Violet Cleveland, the female tribute this year, died the way most of our tributes die: in the first 3 minutes, at the cornucopia, mowed down by the district 4 girl's sword.

But Peeta had grabbed a bag and run. He'd survived for days and days despite the odds. And now it was down to the final 2. Twenty-two other teenagers have died, and now Peeta and Cato, the District 2 boy, stand on top of the cornucopia. Both had been disarmed in the mad dash to escape the mutts. Both are out of breath, soaked to the skin from the rain, and terrified.

"Why are they so unnerved?" mutters Madge, echoing what I had been wondering myself. Cato had probably been training for this for his entire life. Why is he so upset by the sight of these mutts?

It's Cato who makes the first move. From what I know of Peeta personally, and what I've learned in the past few weeks, he wouldn't voluntarily hurt a fly. Sure, he'd put the district 8 girl out of her misery, and he'd defended the little district 11 girl against the others, but I'm not surprised when he doesn't make the first move.

He's wrestled enough to know that it would put him at a disadvantage anyway.

I hear Nick yell from the front of the crowd "he's got this! If he can keep his center low, he always wins" as Peeta lowers himself and braces for Cato's impact. The two grapple for 5 minutes...7 minutes...deadlocked. Both are slipping on the wet metal, and both look terrified every time they glance down at the pack of mutts at the base. It's clear: whoever falls loses. Whoever stays, lives. The glint in Cato's eyes gets angrier. Peeta stays calm in spite of his likely broken ribs, sprained ankle and concussion. Cato is basically ignoring his dislocated shoulder, and his stomach wound, now partially healed by sponsored medicine, still restricts his range of motion.

Cato backs up, and a primal-sounding scream of rage escapes his throat. As he lunges back toward Peeta, the look in his eyes getting wilder, I see his mistake. Peeta stays low, and manages to take Cato out at the knees. Cato falls from the cornucopia.

I shut my eyes as he hits the ground, screaming with fear instead of rage. The sound of the mutts' attack is sickening. When the cannon booms, I re-open my eyes to see Peeta, still crouched atop the cornucopia, vomiting up what little food he's had in the past 12 hours. His eyes are red and he clutches his side as the trumpets sound and a hovercraft ladder drops down to get him.

"We won..." Madge almost whispers, still grasping my hand. "He did it...Katniss, he's coming home!" Her blue eyes fill with tears and she hugs me tightly, her blonde hair falling in my face. As we clutch each other, tears streaming down both our faces, I hear Peeta's brothers and father screaming the same things. People are banging pots and pans. The reporters (who I swear descend on district 12 in greater numbers every day) wave microphones and cameras in people's faces, and I realize that for the first time in 24 years, it's district 12's celebration on TV throughout the nation.

Prim pulls me away from Madge, taken aback for a moment by my tears. "Parcel day, Katniss...we'll have parcel day!" For 12 months, every resident of district 12 will receive extra fuel, grain and other treats. For a whole year, if I have a bad day hunting or trading, I won't have to worry about starving. For a year, many kids will get to skip their tresserae, confident that their families will be well fed without putting their name in the drawing extra times. I know many people are cheering right now because they genuinely care about Peeta's safety, but many are cheering for the extra food and fuel.

I look past Prim to see Cressida, the capitol interview coordinator (or some other such ridiculous title) directing her cameraman to film me, Madge and Prim. Bile rising in my throat, I whisper to Prim "go celebrate with mom so we can do our interviews." I've tried to keep her away from the cameras as much as possible during this process. I tried to keep myself away, but I didn't know how the Capitol media figured out who to interview once the field was narrowed to eight. It had been almost 15 years since anyone from 12 had gotten that far, so one remembered.

Apparently, one of the reasons they take the tributes to the Justice Building for goodbyes is so they can monitor who came to say goodbye, and grab those people first for interviews.

I'm taken back to reaping day in my mind.

_All I had wanted was to thank Peeta. When Effie Trinket called his name my stomach dropped. I immediately thought of that day when we were 11...how hungry I had been...how weak...and how he had risked physical punishment to throw me those two burnt loaves of bread. I owed him. I couldn't save him, but I could thank him. So I went to the Justice Building, shaking with anxiety, intending only to stop for a moment, thank him, and slip back out. The whole time I waited, I had to keep giving myself a pep talk. _This might be your last chance, Katniss. This is the least you can do._ I didn't expect the sign in process, or to have to declare my relation to him ("friend" I had chosen, as none of the other options fit). _

My mind flashes to the part I least expected.

_He kissed me. _

_I had sat down for my allotted few minutes and stumbled over my words. "I just...I don't even know if you remember, but one day...we were eleven. My dad had died, and I was so hungry...you threw me bread...your mom yelled. You came to school with bruises the next day and...I'm sorry. I never said thank you...So thank you..."_

_As I trailed off, probably looking half crazy and confused, he had grabbed my hands and kissed me. I felt a jolt in my stomach, and I had run from the room, out of the justice building, and into the woods. _

Since that day, I hadn't told a soul. But as the field narrowed to 8 tributes standing, I was pulled out of 3rd period English class by Cressida, a woman with a half shaved head and tattoo. She pulled me, Madge, Delly Cartwright, Peeta's middle brother, and 2 boys from the wrestling team into a spare classroom. We were some of the people who had visited Peeta, and we were in school, so we were the easiest to track down. A captive audience, so to speak. I had tried to argue, explain, but Cressida insisted on interviewing me anyway. None of it made it to TV. I was stiff, too quiet, and said nothing of substance. Just the thought of those interviews over the course of the last few days turns my stomach.

I watch as Madge gives a tearful but heartfelt interview, talking about Peeta's good heart. Cressida has given up on getting anything good from me at this point, but keeps asking me a few questions each time she finds me.

"Katniss, you just watched your friend win the Hunger Games. How did you feel during that last battle?"

"I felt..." My mind races with the feelings I've experienced in the past hour. Sadness. Fear. Anger. Pride. Joy. "I felt a million things. I'm just glad he's coming home." Immediately I tense. He'll _see_ this. What will he think? That I liked the kiss? That I have feelings for him? What will my mom think? She has no idea I visited him at the justice building. What will the baker, Peeta's father (and one of my best customers) think? I quickly begin to correct my mistake. "I mean, I'm glad district 12 finally has another victor, and we'll get a parcel day..."

Of course, during the next day's mandatory viewing, it's only the first half of my interview they use, followed by a clip of Madge and I clinging to one another and crying.


	2. Nothing But Dust

**A/N: I'm looking for beta readers. PM me if you're interested. :)**

Peeta comes home 12 days later. It always takes a few days to patch up a victor so that he or she is presentable to the Capitol. Although his injuries didn't appear life threatening, it took a week until they had him ready for his interview and viewing. After looking at his face during the replay of the games, I'm pretty sure it's not his body that needed healing. His eyes were sunken, dark circles around them. They were rimmed with red, and Peeta shook throughout the interview.

I stand at the train station, fidgeting in my mother's old blue dress. Even though it's only end of June, the air is thick with humidity and the sun beats down, unseasonably warm. As one of the people regularly interviewed, I am required to be there for "reaction shots" for "continuity." I may punch a reporter. As Peeta gets off the train, I hang back, with Madge, allowing him space with his family and closer friends. Madge and I had not been particularly close to each other (or Peeta for that matter) before Peeta was reaped, mostly just eating lunch together at school, but we've become closer in the past few weeks. Even so, neither of us is much of a talker, so we haven't really said much despite spending a lot of time together. I realize I have no clue why Madge is here at all.

"Why were you there that day...in the justice building?"

"I live next door."

"You know what I mean...why did you visit Peeta?"

"Why did you? You don't know him."

I'm not sure how to respond, so I don't. We stand in silence. Suddenly Madge leans in to hug me, tighter than her celebratory hugs a few days before. She lets her hair fall over her face, and whispers quickly, in my ear. "Meet me behind the empty candy shop after they take him up to Victor's Village." She pulls away, hands still on my shoulders, staring directly into my eyes. I nod, and we are ushered forward to greet Peeta for the cameras.

The hug I share with Peeta is awkward, and I fight the urge to run. "Thank you for coming to welcome me home" he mutters, his voice flat and emotionless, and he shivers even in the baking sun. What have they given him?

Remembering the cameras, I look him in the eyes as we step away. "I'm glad you came back." It's genuine. He returns a small smile (also genuine?) and walks back toward Haymitch and Effie, the capitol escort. They head up to the Victor's Village, most of the camera crews following behind.

Cressida calls "the kids" (as she's nicknamed his friends) over to her. "From this point on, we're going to focus on his family. No more interviews will be necessary." Her voice falters, and she hesitates for a moment, making eye contact with Madge. "You're...welcome...to be present for the dance and the party, but be aware that all of Panem...the Capitol...is watching." Her eyebrows raise and her chin lowers as she looks at us.

Madge nods and smiles in return. "We have a lot of homework!" she says cheerfully. This is a lie. There's only a week left of school, and we haven't really had homework since Peeta made it to the final eight. But I agree with her, and Cressida waves her hand, as if to dismiss us.

"Separately..." Madge mutters under her breath, so I turn off the sidewalk, taking the path that loops around the back of the town square, and she heads on the path that leads directly to the center of town. As I circle around the school and into the alley, I try to remember which building is the candy store. I know it's been closed as long as I can remember. Next to the old apothecary? My mom grew up working at the apothecary, but when she married my dad, her parents had disowned her from the family business, and she never managed to save up the money to buy it back after they passed. My dad pointed it out to me once or twice, standing empty next to the bakery. The candy store had been on the other side.

_ "Why's that one empty, daddy?" I had asked one day. _

_"Once upon a time there were two little girls who were supposed to keep the store running when their parents were gone. One passed away, and the other married the Mayor. She was so busy helping the Mayor that she didn't have time to run a candy store."_

The Mayor. The Mayor is Madge's dad, which means her mom was meant to run the candy store. Of course, that's why we're meeting here.

This section of the block is quiet. Of the six businesses, 3 stand empty. One is the bakery, and Peeta's parents and brothers are all up in the Victor's Village, probably touring their brand new mansion (will they keep running the bakery even though Peeta won?), and the dress shop is dark. The shoe store (home of the slightly annoying Delly Cartwright), is also closed and quiet. I walk quietly up to the back of what I guess is the candy store, two doors away from the bakery.

Madge slowly opens the door, glances around, and beckons me to follow her. She leads me silently up the stairs, to the apartment above the empty store. The room is covered in dust, and old furniture (even an empty bird cage) litter the corners. The heat is almost oppressive up here, thick with the years of abandonment.

"I can't open a window...there's too many people in town today that would ask questions."

I nod, knowing that we probably shouldn't be here at all. She quietly drags me into the abandoned bathroom, disturbing the thick layer of dust that covers everything in the apartment. She turns on the sink and the shower, the unused pipes groaning as they fill with water.

"I don't think they listen here, but this makes it so they can't pick us up..."

"They?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"The Capitol. Anyone with a connection to the mayor probably has bugs in their house...and now probably anyone connected to Peeta." She looks at me meaningfully. "So try to downplay..." she trails off, and seems to start a new train of thought. "Ok, we have a few minutes. This is why I was there: there is a small group of people in 12 who want to overthrow the government. My mom is involved, my dad looks the other way. The group is small, and gets smaller every year. But Haymitch..."

"HAYmitch?!"

"Yes, Haymitch is our only connection to the other districts without using my dad's official lines. And he's been useless for a long time, so we're not sure if the other districts know we have rebels. Mom hoped Peeta would make it past the bloodbath, get some screen time, so we could get a sign on him, let people know we're still here..."

The pin. It seemed so odd, so incongruous, that a big strong blonde boy would wear a gold Mockingjay pin on the edge of his jacket. No one saw it before the actual games, so no one asked about it. I had dismissed it, figuring it was from Delly or his mom.

"The Mockingjay?"

"Yes" continued Madge, quietly and fervently. "Since we went to that dance last year, mom figured it wouldn't look too out of place if I gave it to him. When we said goodbye, I asked him to please wear it for the district. And he did it. And now they know we're here."

"They?" I ask again, this time unsure of the answer.

"The rebels. In the other districts. We know 11 is in, 'cause Haymitch does talk to Chaff while they drink. Maybe 8...anyway, why were _you_ there?"

I hesitate a moment, then come to the realization that no matter how embarrassed I feel, how ashamed I am about the bread, how confused I feel about the kiss, how reluctant I am to open up, Madge has just trusted me with something bigger and far more dangerous than my confused feelings. If I hold out on her now, she won't trust me again. Our halting friendship will be over. And the idea of rebellion hangs tantalizingly in the air.

So I tell her. I tell her about my father, my mother's numb emptiness, the starving days...Prim getting thinner and thinner. I tell her about digging through the garbage, and Peeta's mom screaming at me, calling me a "seam brat."

"She's a bitch." Madge interjects. "Everyone in town hates her."

I smile and continue. I tell her about the bread, how he was beaten so that I could live. "I owed him." I finish. "I never thanked him...he probably thought I was so ungrateful. And I realized that was probably my last chance to thank him, so I went."

"He likes you." Madge states, matter-of-fact, turning off the water. Apparently this piece of news isn't a secret. "All the town kids know. His friends always told him to let it go...that his mother would never allow him to date you anyway, and that you were probably with Gale..."

"I'm not with Gale. I'm not with anyone, and I won't be. I'm never having kids, I'm never getting married. Not with how things are."

"Fine. But I think you should know about Peeta's feelings." She leads me downstairs toward the back door.

"He kissed me." I say quietly, not making eye contact. Her hand grabs my forearm.

"Katniss! When!" And suddenly we're 2 normal 16-year-old girls, talking about boys instead of rebellion, something neither of us expected. We both giggle nervously.

"After I went to the justice building to say goodbye. I ran."

"You RAN?! Katniss, was that your first kiss?"

I blush and nod as we leave the candy shop. Madge brings a small key from her pocket to lock up, and my mind wanders to my second kiss.

_I ran from the justice building, the feeling of Peeta's lips still on mine, soft and warm. _

_"He's going to die, you know" my mind whispered, and I felt the tears begin to prick behind my eyes. I ran into my house long enough to grab my game bag and shout at my mother, who looked remarkably distraught for a woman whose kids weren't reaped. _

_"We made a special dinner tonight, so don't stay too long" she said absently._

_I ran again. Into the woods, about half a mile from town, pausing only long enough to grab my bow. In the distance, I heard the train moving, taking Peeta and Violet to their deaths. I collapsed to the ground next to the creek, and curled into a ball, sobs wracking my body. I was so confused. I said my thanks. I made it right. I didn't owe him any more, so why was my heart breaking? Why did he kiss me?_

_About 30 minutes later, I had recovered somewhat and was simply sitting on the cool earth, watching the creek pass by when I heard quiet footsteps behind me. _

_Gale sat down next to me, settling close beside me. "I didn't get reaped. I'm done" he whispered, more to himself than to me. "Katniss, I made it through the reapings..." quiet joy was in his voice, and I looked over to see him smiling. _

_Ignoring (or not seeing) my red-rimmed eyes, he suddenly grabbed my face in his hands, kissing me forcefully. A kiss from Gale was so different from a kiss from Peeta. Rougher, more forceful, his lips less hesitant. I felt the same stirring of warmth in my chest. And I responded the same way: by running. Back to the fence, back to the seam, back to my house. I curled up in the bed, covering myself with the blanket as my mom and Prim tried to ply me with goat cheese and salad. _

_Before I feel asleep, I heard Prim mutter to my mom "but she didn't even know him..."_

Madge and I walk wordlessly around the square. As we pause at her door, I hug her tightly, whispering in her ear "will your friends need help?"

She nods, knowing I'm talking about the rebels. "Hopefully. I'll let you know if they make contact." And she disappears into the Mayor's house.

My mind wanders again as I walk back to the seam.

_The next day was Saturday, a day for Gale and I to hunt. This was even more important than normal, because Gale only had a few Saturdays left before he went to the mines. _

In some of the other districts, school stops and starts for the harvest or the spring calving. Not in district 12. Here, we have school year round. "To keep us busy" my dad had once explained. Every year on July 1st, we move up a year. This year, I'll become a 17, even though my birthday isn't until May. And Gale will cease to be an 18. He'll be an adult, and he'll have to go work in the mines.

_I met up with Gale on that Saturday morning, the day after the reaping. My eyes were probably still swollen, but he didn't say a word. Neither did I. As we sat, eating a breakfast of berries and leftover bread, he finally broke the silence. _

_"I'm sorry, Catnip" he began quietly, using his nickname for me. "I always told myself that when I was free from the reapings, I'd let you know how I felt. I didn't think you'd..."_

_Turn him down. He didn't think I'd turn him down. We spend all of our free time together. We can speak without talking, and we've joked about running away_ _together. He assumed what my mom and everyone else assumes, which is that we'll end up together, married with a gaggle of kids in a house at the edge of the seam._

_"I can't, Gale. I'm not falling in love, I'm not getting married. I'm not having kids."_

_"I'm not asking you to get married. I just hoped you'd kiss me back." His voice was thick and somewhat bitter._

_I didn't respond. Without a word, we began hunting, and never talked about it again. Then Peeta made the final 8 and reporters descended on the district, descended on _me_, and I missed out on the last 2 weeks of hunting with my best friend. At least we'd have Sundays. _

Gale is going to start in the mines on Tuesday.

The capitol people leave Sunday night, and town returns to normal. Gale and I both skip school on Monday, enjoying his last day of freedom. We don't say a word about Peeta or the kiss. But he does lean down to hug me as we separate at the fork in the road between our houses.

"See you on Sunday, Catnip" his voice is almost steady.

"Be careful." My voice betrays the worry I feel. "I'm going to worry about you every day."

"Every day?" he asks, surprised at my honesty.

"Every day." I say confidently, and turn down the road.

When I enter my house, my mom looks at the squirrel I've brought, and the basket of greens and mint. "Hunting?" she asks. "They knew you weren't in school. I told the peacekeeper I didn't know where you were. It was Darius."

I nod. "Thanks." There's not much my mom can do to care for me anymore, but lying to peacekeepers is on the list. Luckily, Darius knew exactly where I was, and didn't care. In fact, he had bought a rabbit off of me at the Hob that afternoon.

She walks over and puts her arms around me. "He'll be fine, Katniss." She's rarely affectionate, and I shrug off her hug, staring her in the face.

I think of the day the mine exploded and my father died. How she had collapsed and spent months in numb nothingness. Dad wasn't fine. I open my mouth to argue, scream...but instead I just nod.

That night, I dream of mines caving in on Gale's head, leaving nothing but dust.


	3. A Visit From Peeta and Haymitch

The next Sunday, Gale and I meet up at our regular spot in the woods. When I see him sitting there, leaning against a tree, whole and alive, I surprise myself by running into his arms, giving him a big hug. As I pull away, I catch a look of surprise on his face.

"So, if I kissed you now, you wouldn't run away?" he says with a teasing grin.

"I'd still run." I narrow my eyes at him, wondering if he's going to try anyway. "Just let me be happy you're safe." _Safe. Not blown up. We've survived one week. Out of a million_. I surprise myself by imagining the next 20 years, waiting for Gale every Sunday, to see if he's safe. _Will I wait for him for that long? _I push the thought out of my head. _One week at a time. Survive. _

We spend the day as always. We hunt, walk the snare line, and share a silent lunch of wild lettuce and squirrel meat. Gale doesn't talk much about the mines, but as we're hiking back to the fence he stops me, a serious look on his face. "What are you going to do when you graduate, Catnip?"

I blanche. "Probably the mines." I try not to think too hard about the oppressive darkness and looming death. I begin to panic a little, my breath coming in short bursts, even though I'm outdoors, free and safe. For now.

"No." He says resolutely. "You're not going down there. If you're not going to get married—"

I start to interject.

"—to anyone, not just me, you have to find something else to do. To keep you out of there."

I nod, confused where this talk of marriage came from and where his concern comes from. I never tried to talk him out of the mines...we know it's our only choice. We trudge silently back to the fence.

The weeks begin to pass in a new pattern; I wake up at dawn, walk the trap lines, bring the game back to trade or drop it off with Hazelle, Gale's mom. Then I get dressed and walk to school with Prim. Madge and I eat lunch together, silently, and Prim and I walk home. If I don't have much schoolwork, I go back out to hunt some more. Saturdays, I hunt alone, frantically wracking my brain to think of ways to support my family when the tessera runs out. All I can think of is the mines. Every Sunday, I'm flooded with relief when Gale joins me, seething with anger and ranting about the dangerous conditions underground, the government, the world in general. We hunt and gather, and he calms down a bit, but when I see Hazelle during the week she sighs and shakes her head.

"It's going to kill him, like it did his father. Your father." I know she doesn't mean that literally (although it's still a looming possibility). It's the emotional toll of being trapped under tons of rock, day in and day out that's going to kill him.

In mid-August there's a knock on the door on a Saturday morning. My heart jumps to my throat, and I talk myself down_. Katniss, there was no siren. And even if something happened, even if there was a collapse or bad air, even if Gale _died_, no one would knock on your door to tell you. You're not his wife or even his girlfriend, and you've made it clear that you don't want to be. _

Prim is out back with Lady, her goat, and my mother is in town running errands, so I answer the door. A tall boy with blond hair and blue eyes peers back at me.

Peeta Mellark.

"Peeta? What are you..."

He takes a deep breath as I study him. He's lost more weight, but his eyes look less haunted. More determined. His clothes are clean and unwrinkled, which is more than I can say for Haymitch, who stands next to him. I can smell Haymitch from here, gin wafting through the air. Haymitch puts a hand protectively on Peeta's shoulder.

"I was wondering if your mom was home." Says Peeta, as if Haymitch's hand reminds him why he's here. Buttercup, the mangy cat, winds through his legs, then Haymitch's. Despite his apparent drunkenness, Haymitch doesn't fall. I ponder their request for a moment; since my dad died, I pretty much run our house. No one asks my mom's permission for anything except Prim. So why would they be looking for her?

I'm trying to find my voice to tell them that I can help them with whatever, when I spot my mom on the path, just within hearing distance. She notices our visitors and trots up the path. "I'm sorry, I was in town."

"They want to talk to you, mom" I tell her, and I'm sure confusion is written all over my face.

She walks up the dirt path to our door, understandably confused herself. "Why do you need to see me?"

Peeta glances around, surely noticing the gaps in the wall of our shack, my bare feet, the dark windows (since the seam, as usual, has no electricity today). Prim and the goat wander from the rear of the house. I suddenly feel ashamed of our poverty.

"Um..." Peeta, suddenly shy, stammers a bit. "I – Haymitch and I – we've been talking about District 12, and why we never have victors, and how hard it is. And, um, we talked about what things were like when Haymitch was young..."

Haymitch nods at my mom, who furrows her brow, searching to figure out what these two victors are talking about, and why they're talking to us. I get the impression my mom and Haymitch know one another. But how?

"And so, we got to talking about what the town needs and how people can access...the things they need...and what we can do as victors..." Peeta's eyes are beginning to lose focus as he speaks, and Haymitch takes over.

"The town needs an apothecary." Haymitch says simply, and I realize he's not as drunk as I usually see him.

"You want me to train someone?" My mom asks hesitantly. She's the best healer we have in town at this point. A new apothecary could take away some of her business, and our family's livelihood.

"No, we want you to run it." Peeta looks directly at me as he says it.

My mom goes pale, and I'm afraid she'll fall as she sways. "But I was disinherited. We'd have to start over...if I had the money to buy the store back, I would have done it years ago..." She trails off, probably envisioning a life where my father wouldn't have had to go to the mines, and her daughter wouldn't need to crawl through the rain for bread, take extra tesserae, or risk arrest to put food on the table.

"That's where we come in," states Haymitch, "there are a few stores we need, and a few we'd like to have. We're going to fund the start up costs, then rely on the people we've picked to keep them going. One every few months." There is an intelligent glint in his eye that surprises me. "The apothecary is at the top of the list."

"We already purchased the building." Peeta's focus is getting clearer, and I feel like he's more present than I've seen him since the reaping. "I talked to my dad, and he told me all about what your family did. He said you would know pretty much every part of the business, that you used to do the books and the ordering."

My mom continues to sway in the warm breeze. "Rye..." she whispers, and Prim gives me a confused look. The baker's name is Ryan. I knew mom grew up in town, but hadn't thought about the implications of that. She must have grown up with the other town kids; the children of merchants. So she must know Peeta's dad, the baker, and Madge's parents... Suddenly her eyes snap open. "What's the catch?" she asks harshly, glancing at Haymitch accusingly.

"No catch, Lily." He says gently. Now I'm sure they know one another. But his eyes are grey and his hair is dark. He was from the Seam.

"No catch." Peeta echoes, looking at me again, his eyebrows raised. "Just...if someone needs something and can't pay...bill it to us." It's as if he knows exactly what will draw me into this plan. Helping people who come to us, unable to repay favors. People who my mom and Prim treat for free, or who go without.

I'll never be able to repay him. Not as long as I live. To give my mom and sister such a gift, to give the district such a gift...

"I'll do it." My mom says quietly, resolutely. She glances at Prim. "My girls come, too. I can't run the shop alone. When do we start?" I know she's bringing me along, but I'm not sure how I can help. I suppose I could run the counter or do the books. Maybe gather herbs in the woods. I wasn't given the gift the healing the way she and Prim were. My instinct is always to run. Kisses and injuries. I respond the same way.

"You move in whenever you'd like." Peeta is smiling now.

Prim, who has been watching silently, has found her voice. She echoes my confusion. "Move in?"

Haymitch interjects, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Well, we bought the whole building. There's an apartment up above the store...3 bedrooms, a kitchen...someone's got to live there, and we figured you'd want to be closer to the girls' school." Prim and I are speechless.

My mom invites Haymitch in for some tea, and I hear them through the window as I stand silently on the porch with Peeta and Prim.

"Haymitch, can you really do this? What about before? Is it all going to start again?"

"The boy is under their radar. Too boring for the Capitol crowd. Not enough kills or excitement. They like him well enough, but they don't see him as a threat."

My mom sees us listening through the window and lowers her voice so we can't hear the continued conversation. Prim clucks at Lady and takes her back to her little lean-to. I begin to imagine living in town. Prim will have hot water for her baths. My mom can wear her dresses again. We might even be able to afford shoes and sugar and coffee...

Peeta glances at me. "Is this OK?" he asks, shyly. "I wanted to help you, not upset you."

I realize I must be thinking, which Prim says makes me look angry. I look at the sweet baker's son in front of me and throw my arms around him. Surprised, he hugs me back. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I say, over and over. "I can't repay this."

I glance at his face, and recognize the _look_ I see there. "And this doesn't mean you can kiss me." There, I've caught it before it happened for once. My stomach knots, and I realize I may have just taken away my family's future. "This isn't because you...Madge said..."

"Katniss," Peeta begins with a small smile, "I know what Madge probably told you. You didn't ask for this. I want to do this because it's _right_, not because I'm getting something out of this. There is nothing to repay." His voice is quiet, obviously so Haymitch and my mom don't hear. "But I do have feelings for you. And if you ever feel something back..." He trails off, looking at his feet.

I blush. "I'm won't. I'm not getting married. I'm not having kids. There's too much to be afraid of. The mines and the reaping..."

"Not even the Hawthorne kid?"

"Not even Gale."

Peeta pauses, looking up at the roof where some sort of animal has gnawed a hole in the wood. "He beat my brother up once. Nick teased me about liking a girl with no future but Cray's bed. Gale overheard and knocked him out."

I picture the head peacekeeper, who gives girls coins in exchange for sex. Had I not known how to hunt, had I not met Gale, I would have ended up on his porch just like my neighbors. _Gale stuck up for me._ The thought causes a thump in my chest.

Peeta continues; "I thanked him. Snuck him a loaf of bread when he came to trade the next day. He's a good guy."

"Not even Gale." I repeat, resolutely. "Not anyone. I love Prim so much it hurts. It hurts to think of her being reaped or going to the mine or..." I trail off. Peeta doesn't say anything, so I finish, "My mom almost died when my dad died. I won't let myself love someone that much. I won't be put in that position." I picture my dream, where Gale becomes nothing but dust.

Peeta hugs me again, more gently this time. "You let me know if you change your mind."

Before I can respond, Haymitch opens the door and thanks my mother for the tea. She ushers me inside and calls to Prim. I watch through the window as the victors walk away.

There are tears in my mother's eyes. "Tomorrow we move." She says with a smile. We spend the rest of the evening packing our few belongings with an almost giddy excitement.

A thought, like a promise works its way into my consciousness. _I will find a way out of the mines. And I will bring Gale with me._


	4. The Apothecary

**A/N I have the first 1/3 of the story written, so updates will be frequent for now. They'll probably slow in the next few weeks. Don't hesitate to follow/review. Let me know what you think!**

The next morning I wake up before dawn. It's moving day, but I also need to talk to Gale. Explain why I'm moving to town. Why I accepted help from a victor. Explain that nothing will change between us. Explain why I won't have time for hunting today.

Gale's house is on the other side of the seam, so I steal silently over there, wearing my father's hunting jacket in the chill of the early morning. The Hawthorne's house has 2 bedrooms, but Gale usually sleeps in the living room. His mom and sister share one room, his brothers the other. I peek in the window, and he's on the couch, arm flung over his head, wearing a white t-shirt and an old pair of flannel pants that must have belonged to his father. In his sleep, his scowl is gone, and he looks younger than 18. I tap on the glass gently. Gale bolts upright, grabbing the nearest weapon (in this case, one of Rory's schoolbooks from the end table).

When he sees me at the window, his breathing slows, he puts down the book steps outside, shivering in the early morning. "God, Catnip, you'll give me a heart attack."

"Sorry. Do you always wake up like that?" I can't imagine him waking up that violently in a house full of people.

"Only when people sneak up to my window while I'm dreaming of being blown up."

Well, at least I'm not the only one with dreams of exploding mines.

"Why are you here, Catnip?" He's whispering so as to not wake his family.

I take a deep breath. "I can't go hunting today...I have to help my mom move."

"Move?" Confusion is written on his face.

We sit down on his porch and I tell the whole story. Peeta and Haymitch's visit, the offer of an apothecary. I leave out the part where Peeta kissed me in the justice building and told me he liked me.

"He said you punched Nick Mellark once for making fun of me."

Gale sighs. "Nick has had it coming for years. He has no business saying anything rude about you. Especially...that..." Gale's voice is getting more angry and forceful. This is not how I intended this conversation. "Peeta also has no right to tell you about that, or try to give me bread like I'm some kind of charity case. If he was half a man, or had half the feelings he supposedly has for you, he'd have done it himself."

I find myself defending Peeta. "He's too _nice_ to do something like that."

"And I'm not?" Gale is looking directly at me, his whispers becoming harsher.

"It's not like that...I mean..." I'm at a loss for words. "I didn't want to argue. I thought you'd be happy for me."

"You know why he did this, right? He wants you. He figures that now you owe him, and you'll do anything to repay him. Anything." In the half light of dawn, Gale's scowl looks downright devastated.

"I told him where I stood. That I'll never _be_ with anyone. And you of all people should know that no one is going to force me into anything ever."

Gale refuses to look me in the eyes, and I'm getting annoyed at his overreaction, so I stand up. "Next door to the bakery. Come by when you're done hunting and I'll go to the hob with you. If you can stop being so angry-" Gale's scowl intensifies when I point out his feelings. "-we'll go hunting together next week. Nothing has changed between us Gale, unless you let it." But something has. His anger is so..out of proportion.

With that, I turn on my heel and leave him shivering on his front porch. Halfway across the seam, it hits me that Gale hadn't been angry. He'd been jealous. I find myself shoving down those feelings, building my wall stronger. Nope, I'm not going to consider either Gale or Peeta. They can have all the romantic notions they want, this is not in the cards for me. The sooner they get that through their heads, the better.

It's dawn when I finally return home, and my mother hasn't stirred yet. I heat up the kettle and grab a few mint leaves. Once the water is boiling, I grab my cup of mint tea, and sit on the back porch, looking over at Lady's pen. The memory hits me.

_It was only a few years ago. Gale and I had sold a deer, and purchased Lady for Prim. The goat was half dead, so Gale hauled it to my house and I tied a ribbon around its neck. Prim had cried when she saw it, and set right to work healing Lady. Gale and I sat on the back porch, enjoying the last moments of dusk while my sister clucked like a mother hen as she tended the goat. _

_"She's happy." Gale had said. _

_"Yes. So's the goat." I'd joked. _

_"Are you?" he asked. The words hung in the air. Was I happy? How did I even define happy? I had four more reapings to go. Prim had seven. We spent most of our lives trying not to starve to death. School was awful, but the mines (our only opportunity) were worse. My father was dead, my mom a shell of herself. The goat represented hope for Prim, but that hope was fickle; that hope couldn't erase all the unhappiness around us. I thought of our neighbors. Juniper Babcock, who starved to death last winter at only 5 years old. Kim Hilbert, who died in childbirth, leaving her husband with 2 grieving children and a baby. Heck, even Haymitch, the victor up in the village was unhappy, and he'd never starve to death. Sure, there were moments like this, moments of contentment. But it wasn't enough. _

_"No." I had said, matter of factly. _

_Gale sighed. "Could you be happy? The right future? A good job? The right person?" _

_"No." I said, hoping to leave it at that. _

_"I could." He had started, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Ideally, the Capitol would be gone. But even so, with the right woman, the right job...I'd find a way out of the mines. Love my children as best I could and hope they weren't reaped. If you can just find moments like these and enjoy them...My mom says that when she's sad or misses my dad, she remembers the good moments. The beautiful ones. And she's happy despite it all." _

_He'd put his arm around me then, and I'd stiffened as he pulled me to his side. "Catnip, you have to let someone in someday. Or you'll never be happy."_

_I'd sat there with all the affection of an opossum. "Being happy only opens you up to sadness." I had said, shrugging his arm off. _

As I sit thinking, Prim sits down next to me. I curl my arm around her, the similarity to Gale's gesture not lost on me. Sweet, innocent Prim leans into me, laying her head on my shoulder. We sit there, watching the sun rise over the hills, waiting for our new lives to begin. Finally Prim breaks the silence. "Was Gale mad?" For a 12-year-old, she's smart.

"Yeah."

"He probably thinks you're going to leave him for a town boy now." The unspoken assumption that I'm going to end up with Gale is like a knife through my gut every time, but coming from my sister it feels more like a punch; like the wind getting knocked out of me.

"I'm not leaving anyone for anyone because I'm not falling in love or getting a boyfriend or getting married or having kids" I repeat for what feels like the thousandth time this week.

Prim smiles at me and takes the tea mugs inside, packing them and the teakettle for the trip to town. We load some of our stuff into the wagon, and my mom pulls it to town. I follow behind with the wheelbarrow (and the rest of our belongings). Prim tags along, dragging Lady through the streets. Buttercup follows behind, clearly put out at the disruption. We look like a sorry, ragtag parade as we head for the back path around town, stopping at the apothecary.

My mom directs Prim to get Lady settled in her new pen (which backs up to the bakery's pigpen), and Haymitch and Peeta meet us at the door with our keys. "Welcome home" says Peeta with a smile.

When we walk through the door, I can see that someone has been in here, scrubbing down counters and shelves, filling bins with herbs and remedies. A fresh coat of blue paint leaves the room with a calm, airy feeling. "We made sure your first shipment was put away. It's part of the startup costs we've covered."

I look at Peeta's smiling face as he says that and tears fill my eyes. My mother is in her element, looking through the bins, and adjusting the healer's table that's in the corner.

"Of course," Peeta continues, a twinkle in his eye, "if people choose to sell you herbs and plants locally, you're expected to pay them fairly."

Me. He means me. He's given me a sure-fire way out of the mines. "Thank you" is all I can manage to croak out around the lump in my throat.

"Let's head upstairs" says Haymitch. As I follow the narrow stairs to the second floor, I hear him tell my mother "I hired Hazelle for a few days to clear out the dust and get everything ready. She was real happy to have some money so that boy of hers can stop working himself crazy."

So Hazelle knew, but let me tell Gale myself. I'm not sure that was the best choice.

When we mount the stairs, I gasp. Mom had told me last night that the place was furnished, but this is too much. The stairs open into the sunny living room. Of course, the Capitol-issued TV is there, but there are 2 overstuffed couches and a soft, dark green rug, as well as a fireplace between the windows. In the corner (the "breakfast nook" my mom calls it), there's a shiny new table and chairs. The kitchen has a real refrigerator and stove, as well as a sink. Down the hall are 3 bedrooms. My mom's room has a sliding door to a small porch which overlooks the back yard. Prim and I both have smaller rooms overlooking the town square. We all share a bathroom with hot and cold running water ("when the power's on" Peeta reminds us, "otherwise it's just cold water"). My mom busies herself hanging clothes in the closet and Prim begins putting quilts on the beds. I offer to go get firewood to fill the woodbox, and to find some food for Lady.

Peeta joins me. "A feed store is on our list as well, maybe even a place where people can buy goats and chickens and pigs and other livestock _legally_." His smile lets me know he's found out that Lady came from a less-than-legal transaction. "I can't feed everyone, but I just want people to be able to survive."

I stop and grab his hand next to the woodpile that someone has stacked for us. "Why? I still don't understand. No one can repay you. You don't have to do this."

There's a long pause. "When I was there – in the arena – I was in survival mode. Live at all costs. But when I got out, and it hit me..." He opens his eyes as he trails off, but they have that far away look again. I squeeze his hand. His voice becomes more faint. "Haymitch said I needed something to live for. My family is OK without me. My friends don't understand. But I knew I'd end up like him if I didn't find something. Then he told me about his childhood. About your father –"

"My father?!" I interject.

"How they were friends..." Peeta looks at me, realizing I don't know what he's talking about. But he continues on. "The stories about the apothecary and the good it did during the crackdown."

I add "the crackdown," whatever that is, to my list of questions.

"And I asked Haymitch, 'what if I could live for district 12?' Help people. Make things better. It is an added bonus that the healer's daughter was a girl I'd had my eye on for years." He says it casually, but it's another punch to my gut.

I choose to ignore it.

"So my father and Haymitch were friends?" I prompt him.

"Haymitch says they knew each other from childhood, and their parents were friends or something. Grew up by each other in the seam. Apparently your mom was in Haymitch's year, but your parents didn't meet until after Haymitch's games. The capitol hated Haymitch. Extra peacekeepers were sent here to keep him in line, make sure the district didn't rebel. Things were strict...lot of people whipped and hung. Killed Haymitch's girlfriend and made it look like an accident. Haymitch shut everyone out, and your mom and my dad broke up –"

"Our parents _dated_?" I find myself almost screeching.

"Does your mom tell you anything?" Peeta asks incredulously.

"Apparently not."

Gale chooses this moment to come around the corner, his game belt full of squirrels for the baker. He glances at our linked hands, and his cheeks turn pink. He turns and knocks on the bakery door, checking to make sure it's Peeta's dad in the kitchen.

I drop Peeta's hand and take the wood inside.

When I return, Gale is standing next to Lady's pen. "Ready for the Hob?" I ask him lightly.

"Sure, Catnip" his voice calmer than earlier. We don't say much for the rest of the afternoon, but as we part ways, him to the seam and me to town, he gives me a little smile. "I'm happy for you" and he walks away.


	5. We Need a Spark

We again settle into a new routine. Delly sometimes walks to school with Prim and I, and I begin to really like her. She's genuinely nice, if a little talkative. As summer fades into fall and the mornings get colder, she and Prim begin to bond over clothes and hairstyles, including what coats they want for the winter. Thanks to the apothecary business, we have enough money to buy real winter clothes without worrying about the cost.

I still wear my dad's hunting jacket.

The Cartwrights, who run the shoe store accept us into the neighborhood openly, but not everyone is so kind. Even though the baker is nice to us (and I catch him sneaking cookies to Prim from time to time), his wife still mutters about "seam brats" and complains that Lady is bleating too loud. Whenever she catches my mom and Mr. Mellark talking or trading, the whole neighborhood can hear her slamming things around in the bakery. Prim and Lady have enough food to grow. My mom begins to hum while she works again. The shop is busy.

I already knew Rooba, the butcher. She knows me from the hob, and is one of the people who welcomes us to town. One day, as I'm selling her a turkey, she tells me that Peeta's middle brother, Nick, will be apprenticing with her next year, since she has no children of her own. "I offered it to Bannock, but he turned it down." I get the impression that Nick doesn't like butchering very much, but is happy to take the opportunity to get out of the bakery.

Madge and I become closer as time goes on. Although we live on opposite sides of the square, we sometimes walk together, or work on class projects. She has no news of the rebellion, although I ask regularly in covert speech. She doesn't mention the kiss with Peeta, and I don't mention that she's the only one who knows. Prim and Buttercup are both fond of her, and Buttercup enjoys sitting down in the middle of every project we work on. Madge just laughs.

One October morning, Mr. Mellark catches me and Madge as we come home from school to work on a project.

The baker hesitates for a moment before starting in. "Can you girls, and maybe Delly and the wrestling boys, really, all you 'kids,' run up to Peeta's sometimes? I think he's lonely. He's...not doing well. I was hoping you two could get everyone to visit more."

Madge and I are probably the least useful people on that list.

"Sure, Mr. Mellark" responds Madge, and she surprises me by spinning around to head up the hill toward the Victor's Village.

"He said _sometime_, not today" I protest, feeling more anxious by the minute. It's not that I avoid Peeta, it's just that I don't purposefully seek him out. It helps that he stays up in his house most of the time. The idea of visiting sends a wave of anxiety through me.

As soon as we're far from town, but not close to the victor's village, she stops me. "Katniss, I need an excuse to talk to Haymitch, give him some news I've gotten from my dad. My mom has no business up there, but I do."

"I thought the plan was to stay away to avoid suspicion."

"Look around you! There's no suspicion. They all think he's an old drunk."

"Madge! He _is_ an old drunk!"

"Is he, now?" She says it with a smile and begins walking toward the village. I have to admire her tenacity. For a rebellion that we don't even know is real, she's willing to risk getting put on the Capitol's radar. We still have two more reapings to go.

As we walk toward the gathering of 12 houses, we slow down. Obviously, Peeta's house is the one with the big "74" next to the door and the smoke coming from the chimney. But which one is Haymitch's?

A crash from the house across the street from Peeta's is our first clue. We find the rusty, half buried "50" in the yard. Haymitch. Madge knocks timidly, and Haymitch flings the door open.

"Oh..." he slurs, "it's you girls. Whatcha doin here? The boy's across the street..."

Madge straightens her back. "Haymitch, I think we need to _talk_ before we go over to see Peeta." Her eyes flash, and the way she emphasizes _talk_ seems to communicate with Haymitch that it's rebellion news.

Haymitch perks up a bit, and steps onto the porch, shutting the door firmly behind him. "Why don't you and I talk about things in the back yard? Send Katniss over to cheer up the bread boy. There's nothing she can say that will make it worse."

Of course. Great. Sent over alone to deal with a grieving boy I barely know, to whom I owe my life and livelihood. Who is in love with me. I'm so nervous once I stand on his porch that I'm shaking.

He answers the door covered in paint, dark circles again around his eyes. His eyes grow bigger when he sees me. "Katniss?! What are you doing here?"

"Your dad sent me. Said you needed some cheering up. Madge, too, but she's talking to Haymitch."

He rolls his eyes. "Of course, I think they have the same friends." He states it simply, but gestures up toward the walls. Bugs. Not safe to talk about it here. I sit down awkwardly in his living room, and he brings out a hot, brown drink.

"Hot chocolate. You'll like it. It's my favorite."

And it _is_ good. We make small talk for awhile, unsure of what to talk about. Finally I ask him to tell me the whole story of our parents. So we walk to the backyard. Apparently my mom and his dad dated in school, and talked about getting married. When my mom was 16 (as was Haymitch), my mom's best friend, Maysilee (Madge's aunt), Haymitch and 2 other kids were reaped for the quarter quell. Haymitch won. Before the quell, Haymitch and my dad had been close, trading with one another and spending time at the Hob. After the quell, Haymitch felt guilty about Maysilee's death, and befriended my mom and Katy (Madge's mom). My dad had often come with when they hung out. A few weeks after they returned, Haymitch's girlfriend was suddenly killed by a falling branch. This was no accident, and it is believed that the president ordered the murder as punishment for Haymitch. After the funeral, Haymitch went a little nuts in the town square, yelling about the Capitol, the rebellion. My mom, Katy, my dad and Ryan Mellark had tried to calm him, but the peacekeepers had overheard, and the president called Haymitch personally to let him know that what happened next was his fault. Within a week, Haymitch's family was dead, the number of peacekeepers in town doubled, and they'd put up a gallows and whipping pole. Rules were doubly enforced. My dad was whipped publically for going under the fence. Haymitch barricaded himself in his house, and refused to associate with anyone, drinking himself into oblivion.

My mom was still at the apothecary shop, and she helped my dad through his wounds. But they didn't get together then. Almost 2 years later, when she and Peeta's dad were about to get married, she heard him sing.

I knew this part of the story, and filled in the blanks that Peeta had. She heard him sing the Valley Song one morning as he dropped off some herbs (part of his payment for her work). She ran in back and kissed him, and they were married a month later.

I remember the way my mom would light up when they talked about that day. How she knew. _Knew_ it was what she wanted. My dad was what she wanted. He lit up, too, and I picture in my mind the way he'd sit her in his lap and hold her. My grandparents, who died when I was young, were furious. They tried to talk her out of it, threatened to disown her, but she insisted that she loved him more than her life in town. And she left.

"My dad was heartbroken, and took to drinking. My mom found him passed out one day, and helped him home. They started dating. They got married pretty quickly, too. He talks about your mom a lot." Peeta sighs as Madge and Haymitch come around the corner.

Haymitch looks relieved to see Peeta out of the house. "You girls should come more often. Does him good. Does me good."

"We can bring Delly or one of the guys." I offer.

Peeta's face gets a bit less morose. "I'd like that."

Haymitch glances at Madge. "You trust her?" he asks, glancing at me.

"Absolutely" she responds, her head held high.

"Fine, she's in." Haymitch gathers us in a tight circle. "Katniss, we'll fill you in. Madge told you before that there's a rebellion, and we've confirmed that they're out there. We've made contact with 4, 7, 8 and 11. Peeta and I are going to try to find out more on the victory tour. Katy here –"

"Madge"

"Sorry, Madge here says there's likely something going on in 3 as well. I've known Beetee for years, so I'll have to arrange a visit while we're on the victory tour. We get back from the tour the first week of January, and Madge says we can meet in an abandoned store the next afternoon. Katniss, we might have something for you to do to help."

"Gale, too." The words are out of my mouth before I can think. Peeta's eyes narrow and Haymitch presses his lips together.

"Why does your boyfriend need to be involved?" Haymitch closes his eyes. "If we can't trust you..."

"He's not my boyfriend!" A conversation I'm tired of having. "It's just that...Gale hates the Capitol more than anything. He'd want to get involved. He works in the mines, he can meet people down there. He can fight."

Haymitch and Madge glance at each other, and then at me. He gestures toward her to tell me something. The sinking feeling in my stomach and the grim looks on their faces tell me that I'm not going to be happy with what I'm about to hear.

"Sit down, Katniss." She leads me to a bench, overlooking the town itself. "Katniss, what do you know about your father's mining accident?"

Suspicious, I slowly say "not much...his crew was too close to the explosion. None of them survived. Gale's dad was on the same crew."

I close my eyes and the dots connect as Madge and Haymitch explain my father's role in the rebellion. How the miners were at the core, communicating quietly in loud quarters. How President Snow called Haymitch 5 minutes before the explosion, and told him what was about to happen. Laughed in his face. Killed his friends. How my dad was a rebel. Gale's father was rebel. No one was left to know, but Haymitch and Madge's mother.

Peeta puts a calming arm around my shoulder.

"My mom says that she knows your mom suspects, but it was safer to keep her in the dark." Madge puts an arm around the other side.

"Hazelle knows." Haymitch says quietly. "But she won't tell the boy. Doesn't want to lose him, too."

The image from my dream, of Gale turned to dust in an explosion slowly makes its way into my consciousness. I want to keep this new knowledge from him. I need to keep it from him, to keep him safe. Because he will not stay safe. He will take the rebellion as far as he can, as fast as he can.

But it's not my job to keep it from him. He deserves a choice. He deserves to know. _I_ deserved a choice, and I wasn't given it.

I run. Madge screams after me on the path, her blonde hair lit up in the sunset. I see the miners, sooty and tired, walking toward the seam. I scan the dirty faces, looking for Gale. I know I must look crazy. My hair has fallen out of my braid, and I left my jacket at Peeta's. I'm shivering, sweaty and half crazed. "Looking for something, Catnip?" Gale, sooty and tired, appears from the line of miners.

I grab his hand and begin dragging him. Through the seam, past his house, over the meadow, through the fence. Frankly, at this point I don't care who sees me as we slip underneat. We approach our spot (he's been asking questions the whole time, and becoming increasingly concerned) and I notice something's amiss. Twigs are broken, footprints in the mud.

Madge is there.

"How...why?" I pant.

Madge shrugs. "Haymitch knows where you go. He also knows shortcuts. I figured if you were going to tell him, it would be here. And you'd need me here to answer questions."

So we sit, and Madge tells us about our fathers, about the rebellion. Hours later the three of us walk quietly back to town, agreeing to keep the information to ourselves. Our mothers can't know what we know and we can't let on. We come up with our alibi: I'd been hunting, and Gale joined me after work. We'd gotten lost in the woods (it wouldn't have been the first time). That's why we returned home after midnight. Madge says her parents don't care.

My mom shows a mild amount of concern, but doesn't ask many questions. She's distracted. It works in my favor.

The next day after school, I head back to Peeta's house to retrieve my dad's hunting jacket. He's sitting on his porch, looking much better than the day before. His eyes are concerned as he greets me. "Katniss, did you come to get your jacket?"

"Yes, and I wanted to apologize for running off yesterday." I'm suddenly feeling very ashamed of my behavior. I was supposed to be comforting _him_ and I'd run off.

"Can't say I blame you." He steps forward and gives me a hug. Just a few months ago, this would have sent me running again, but today I'm glad for the comfort. Maybe Peeta really is my friend.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" I ask, hoping to get away from whatever Capitol bugs populate his house.

As we walk on the path to town, he begins to tell me about how he joined the rebellion. "I didn't know until later, but Madge's pin was some kind of signal?"

I nod.

"Well, Haymitch didn't know either. It's an older signal...anyway, after they pulled me from the arena, I was in the hospital for almost a week. Losing my mind. They only let Haymitch in to see me, but one night that guy from district 11, Chaff, the one with one arm? He snuck in. He whispered that he was on my side. And the next night, Finnick Odair snuck in. We've become good friends, you know."

He pauses, and I knit my brows together. "_The_ Finnick Odair? The one who has a new girlfriend every week?"

Peeta chuckles, but I see an unexplained panic behind his eyes. "No matter what he's done or why, he's been a good friend." Peeta pauses on the path, and we sit on the side of the road in the grass. "Anyway, by the time I was released, I'd talked to a bunch of people. And Haymitch was sober, and _he_ talked to a bunch of them. Johanna Mason from 7, Cecelia Smith from 8, Chaff and Seeder Mitchell from 11. The rebellion has been underground for years, going through cycles of growth and times when the government purges anyone they can find. We need more people and more districts. If there's going to be a rebellion, it has to be everyone. We have to disrupt supply chains, overtake peacekeepers...it's a big thing. It would have to be coordinated. And it would have to be everyone. The whole district, every district. It's going to take time and patience"

He pauses, helping me up, and we continue walking toward town.

"This is why we worry about Gale. He's unpredictable. He's impulsive."

"He's passionate. He just wants to be free." Of course I'm defending him.

Peeta glances over at me. "So why isn't he your boyfriend?"

"I told you, I don't want a boyfriend. I don't want to fall in love or get married. Not with things how they are now."

"And if they were different?"

"I don't know...maybe."

"Would it be Gale?"

I sigh. I don't even know within myself, let alone elsewhere. And the Capitol is still in charge, and we _do_ live here and things _aren't_ different. "I really don't know." I respond. Peeta nods. We walk in silence to my door.

"Can we be friends?" The question comes out of nowhere.

"Of course" I respond, looking at his blue eyes. "I have nothing against friends. I thought you were my friend."

"Good." He looks next door, where we can hear Bannock arguing loudly with his mother. "This is why they didn't come with..." he trails off, and I'm reminded that nothing is perfect for anyone.

Impulsively, I hug him tightly, and whisper in his ear. "What would it take to change things? To start a rebellion?"

He breaks the hug and looks me in the eyes, as if he is searching for something. Then he envelops me again. He smells of bread and dill. "A spark" he says quietly, "we need something so big and so clear that everyone will have to work together. So big that we know things can never go back the way they were." He breaks the hug again, and his shoulders hunch as he walks to the bakery.

**A/N Please follow/review! And let me know what questions you have. :)**


	6. Walls Around Myself

**A/N I was going to wait to post this, but I thought I'd put it up today to give** pirhanavamp **a bit of a Galeniss preview. I'm trying to stay true to Katniss's nature and reluctance to have a relationship and lack of self-awareness. But here's a taste of the how the Galeniss will develop. :)**

I go inside, lost in thought. Prim is sitting at the table, hands folded, staring hard at me.  
"Out all night with Gale last night, now hugging Peeta Mellark in the street? Katniss, what's going on?!"

Great, I'm being lectured by my 13-year-old sister. "None of your business. Where's mom?"

"She's visiting Mrs. Undersee with some new medication."

"Oh...OK..."

We stare awkwardly at one another.

"Katniss, you can tell me things. I'm your sister. We should talk about these things. Boys."

I grab some cheese and an apple and come sit across from her. "What do you want to know, little duck?" I smile as I ask her, and she blushes.

"How do you know you like a boy?"

A small voice in the back of my head starts a chant. _No. No. No. Not yet. Not Prim. No. No. No. _"I don't know, Prim" I say carefully, "you're a little young."

"You were out in the woods with Gale every day at my age." She says it accusingly, as if more was happening in the woods than just hunting.

"Prim, you know it's not like that with him."

She looks down at the table, then back up at me. I take a big bite of apple and chew thoughtfully. I nearly choke on it when she begins speaking. "Rory...Rory held my hand yesterday. I needed to talk to you, and you weren't there. I didn't even know how to act at school today."

I finally swallow and laugh. "Prim, I'm the last person to ask about that. The first time a boy kissed me, I ran away!"

"Wait, who kissed you? When?" Then she giggles, thankfully dropping the topic. "You really ran away? So it's OK? To feel...weird... and to want to see him and not want to see him all at the same time? I've known him my whole life, Katniss, and suddenly I'm wondering if I really want to meet up with him after school."

"I can talk to Gale" I offer, hoping to squash whatever is going on in her mind.

"I liked it." She says quietly.

Of course.

I go hunting with Gale that Sunday, and the silence between us is thick. There's plenty of game to track down, as the animals are preparing for a long winter ahead. We walk the trap lines and shoot a turkey without more than five words. What used to be comfortable silence is now heavy with the things we don't dare to talk about. Our fathers. The rebellion. Peeta. My refusal to return his kiss. And now, Rory and Prim.

As we part, he looks at me. "You'll let me know, right? If the rebels..."

"Of course. I told them you were part of the package."

He raises an eyebrow.

"If I know anyone who could lead a rebellion, it's you." I explain.

His eyebrow lowers. "Of course. Keep me updated." And we part ways.

And so the next few weeks pass, with visits to Peeta a few times a week. Sometimes with Madge or Delly, sometimes alone. Peeta has begun to perk up a bit more, and is starting to re-gain weight. Mr. Mellark smiles as he sees me each morning and thanks me with cheese buns.

I have fun on the days we all go: me, Madge, Delly, Peeta's brothers and Rick and Jim, the boys from the wrestling team. Peeta makes us bread and hot chocolate, and there's lots of good natured teasing. But I also enjoy the quieter days. At least once a week I try to go alone, or just with Madge (who spends a lot of time with Haymitch). Peeta and I are becoming good friends. I tell him stories about Prim, and he shares stories he knows about our parents. We avoid talking about Gale. Peeta turns out to be a good listener, and he seems to really care about me, something I'm not used to. I'm used to trades and black market deals, or relationships formed out of need or fear, not genuine friendship. It takes some time to accept his friendship and to understand that he truly doesn't want anything in return. He admits once, as he loans me an umbrella during a cold fall rainstorm, that he still has feelings for me, but promises me prefers me as a good friend over an unrequited crush.

Sundays are spent with Gale, hunting, fishing, gathering, and preparing for winter. We find herbs, which my mother buys. Meat, which we can now keep in my family's freezer. And we talk rebellion. One Sunday morning, he asks me the question I know has been burning in his mind.

"When, Katniss? When? In a month, a year?"

I understand his intense desire for change, but remember what Haymitch told me about Gale's unpredictability and impulsive nature. "Soon, I hope. We're meeting with Haymitch and Peeta when they come back from the tour. They're going to talk to some other victors while they're gone."

Gale grunts, and I watch his gray eyes turn stormy. "What are we waiting for? District 12 could easily overpower the peacekeepers we have here. We need to unite. No one is doing anything"

"Peeta says they'd just send more peacekeepers; beat us back into submission."

"Well, let's just do what Peeta says then, right? Since he has all the answers and all the power?" Gale is seething. "By the time Peeta gets around to the rebellion, all of our siblings will be past reaping age."

"Well then we'll leave, like you said."

"What if I don't want to leave? What if I want to fight?"

"You'd rather fight a war we might not win than quietly slip away and live our lives how we want?" I'm wary of his intensity.

"I'd rather fight, not just for us, but for everyone. And I'd rather not wait. What does your new friend Peeta say we're waiting for anyway?"

I replay the discussion outside the apothecary in my mind. "A spark. Peeta says we need a spark; something so big that we have no choice. We can't go back to what it was, we have to move forward."

"Great, so what happens while we're sitting here, waiting for a mystical spark? The Hunger Games go on? You get reaped? We all starve to death? It sounds like Peeta's plan involves everyone just rolling over and waiting to die." He spends the rest of the afternoon in stony silence, punctuated by occasional rants about the Capitol. I let him rant. Safer in the woods than inside the fence.

As winter begins, Peeta and Haymitch open a feed store on the other side of the square. They hire a couple of female miners, women who have families, to run it. The families live upstairs. Knowing Lady won't want for anything, Prim begins talking about breeding Lady and starting a herd of her own.

Peeta leaves on the victory tour on a snowy morning. Once the Capitol people arrive, Madge and I avoid the victor's village. I'm surprised to find I feel a bit melancholy at several weeks without Peeta, but push the thought from my mind.

I stay inside the fence while they're in town, but as the train pulls away, I slip into the woods.

At our meeting place, I see Gale, with a scowl, and Madge, who looks mildly annoyed.

"Rebellion news?" I ask as I sit down, passing around mint tea. We sip from a shared tin cup.

"Nope, just always wanted to see the woods." Madge is grinning. Gale continues to scowl.

As the afternoon draws on, Gale starts to warm up to Madge in spite of the fact that we're not getting much hunting done. Madge is amazed by the snares, the trees, the creek. She grins when we pull up a net full of fish from the edge of the frigid lake, and eventually asks Gale to show her to shoot in a snowy clearing. As he stands behind her, helping her shift her hips, the feeling hits me. Anger, confusion, a certain level of possessiveness I feel over Gale...I pause for a moment, trying to put a name to what I'm experiencing.

Jealousy.

I close my eyes, fighting to get the image out of my head of Gale, bent slightly over Madge's blonde, tiny frame, hands over hers, heads together. I take a deep breath. _Open your eyes, Katniss. You have no reason to be jealous. They're not doing this to hurt you. You can't be hurt, you have no claim on anyone. _

I open them. "You're teaching her wrong." My voice feels like it's coming from very far away. "If she holds it like that, the arrow will pull too far to the left."

Gale looks at me with confusion, which quickly turns to merriment. "Really, Catnip? I'm teaching her wrong?"

"I'm a better shot than you."

"You're too short to spot her right."

"You're too tall to teach her to aim correctly."

"You're jealous." His words hang in the air, and Madge is still glancing back and forth between us.

"No I'm not" I say, my voice unconvincing.

Madge laughs nervously. "Guys, there's enough of me to go around." She walks over and gives me a hug. "I promise I wasn't flirting" she whispers in my ear, "but don't you insist daily that he's _not_ your boyfriend?"

Gale stares hard in my direction, confusion in his eyes, then glances back at Madge. "It's probably time to hike back and reset the snares."

At home that night, I can't sleep. I mull the events of the day over in my head. The feeling of jealousy. Gale's amusement when he realized, probably more quickly than I did, what I had been feeling. I'm terrified of this feeling...it's too vulnerable. Frightening. But the walls I've built around the future, walls to keep these feelings out, don't feel as strong as they used to.

I'm surprised as the days wear on as my thoughts about Gale are frequently interrupted by missing Peeta. I have no romantic feelings about him, but he's become a good friend.

Weeks later, after couple of awkward hunting trips, punctuated by Gale teasing me to let him "teach me how to shoot", which I pointedly ignore. I can't sleep. My thoughts are keeping me awake, but it's also hard to sleep in my own room now. I spent my entire life curled up with Prim, lulled to sleep by her even breathing, and at times the room seems too still, too empty without her. She must feel the same, because many nights she'll crawl into my bed. Tonight she doesn't.

After a pointless hour of tossing and turning, I realize that sleep is not going to come easily, and get up to get some tea. I rarely watch TV (since it's all news and Capitol propaganda), but tonight I sink into the big couch and turn it on, thinking it may bore me to sleep. I flip through an old movie, a new movie, a news show, and finally a celebrity show. Peeta is on the screen. The host (a skinny girl with sparkly green hair and dyed-blue teeth) describes the gala that evening.

"The 74th victor has been spotted around town with Arianna Youngsmith, star of The Next Dead Tribute." They show a clip of Peeta, posing with a beautiful redhead outside of a fancy restaurant. He looks tired. "They were then seen together at the Presidential Mansion, where rumor has it, they enjoyed each other's company long into the night." She winks into the camera.

The feeling I have this time is definitely not jealousy, it's much closer to confusion. Peeta doesn't seem like the time to go gadding around the Capitol, disappearing into plush bedrooms with famous redheads. And he doesn't look _happy_ on the TV either. He looks...spent. But he did mention hanging around with Finnick Odair (who is widely known around Panem as a playboy), so who knows. His time in the Capitol feels like a betrayal because it's so un-Peeta-like that I can't wrap my brain around it. In my head I can't square the boy with the bread with the boy onscreen. They're two different people.

I flip the TV off and finish my tea in the dark room.


	7. You're Not the Only One Who Gets Jealous

When Peeta gets home from the tour, District 12 sees the biggest Harvest Festival in my lifetime. The Capitol has paid for the food and entertainment, and attendance (while not mandatory) is "highly suggested." The camera crew is back from the Capitol, and I find myself chronically annoyed at their presence, the charge in the fence, and the insistence that I'm somewhere nearby whenever they're filming. Cressida arranges us "kids" near the base of the stage (the same one they erect for the reaping each year) and encourages us to "have fun" for the cameras.

Madge and I share a look and an eye roll. Spontaneous frivolity is not our forte.

Peeta is led onstage, looking thin and exhausted, but relieved to be home. Eventually Cressida coaxes Madge to dance with Peeta, in homage to the story his brothers had told. Then I take a turn. As we break our friendly embrace, (laughing at the fact that Nick is following Madge like a lost puppy) Gale comes alongside me.

"Dance with me?" he asks. Gale doesn't dance, but I allow him to lead me away.

As he wraps his arms around me, I have to ask. "What was that about? You're not known for your high levels of participation in Harvest Festival activities."

"You're not the only one who gets jealous, Catnip." He's very matter of fact.

"I wasn't jealous!" I squeal. He pulls me in tighter, smelling of wood smoke and the rough soap we use in the seam. "And Peeta and I have agreed to just be friends." I finish.

"Okay" he responds, swaying to the music. I'm slightly annoyed at his confidence. I've fought him every step of the way, and here he is, still assuming that I was jealous that day in the woods. It's chilly this evening, and in spite of my father's hunting jacket and the heaters brought in by the Capitol, I've been slowly getting colder as the minutes tick by. While I felt marginally warmer in Peeta's arms, Gale's make me feel even warmer, as if I were heated from the inside. I'm suddenly incredibly uncomfortable.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Prim. She's standing next to Rory, talking to a friend from town. I pull back from Gale, and point them out wordlessly. Rory has grabbed her hand and whispers something in her ear. She giggles. He hands her a chrysanthemum he stole from one of the centerpieces.

Gale laughs over my head. "Look at him go...he's got a lot of nerve." Gale continues to chuckle.

I am not so amused. "That's my baby sister he's using his _nerve_ on over there." I fill him in on the conversation my sister and I had in our kitchen.

Gale laughs again. "Go hang out with Madge, I'll talk to him." Gale purposefully strides over to the group of 13s, picks his brother up, slings him over his shoulder, and walks him to an empty spot on the side of the stage. I can see Rory gesturing angrily in the corner as Gale continues to laugh.

The next afternoon, I sneak next door to the abandoned candy shop when I hear Madge open it up. My mother pretends not to hear, and I wonder again how much she really does know.

Before too long, Haymitch and Peeta appear, each holding a large donut from Peeta's dad (presumably their reason for being in town). "Good" Haymitch begins, "we can start."

"Gale's not here." I interject, and Madge rolls her eyes.

"They're still not together" she offers, "supposedly."

Luckily, Gale strides quietly into the room, saving me from another awkward conversation which would end with pained glances from Peeta, eye rolls from Madge, and sighs from Haymitch. I don't think Haymitch really enjoys spending all of his time with teenagers, but it's probably better than the alternative of sitting alone, drunk in his house.

Gale sits next to me without a word, making slightly aggressive eye contact with the victors. Peeta looks down. Haymitch stares back and places a device in the middle of the table. Outwardly, it looks like a small book, maybe slightly larger than my hand and bound in smooth brown leather. But when he opens it, there are a series of lights and buttons inside. Nothing is labeled, but Haymitch seems to know how to operate it. He presses a couple of buttons, then picks the device up and walks around the room. A green light shines from the corner.

"A gift from Beetee." We nod. "As long as that green light is on, there are no bugs. It can scramble phone lines temporarily, and a few other things. I'm trying to get a couple more, but it's hard to smuggle things out of 3."

Madge's eyes are wide with admiration. She loves this. Even Gale seems impressed.

He continues. "Here's what we've got. 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10 and 11 all have active rebellions that we know about. We can't do much without 5. They've got the hydroelectric station. The big problem is that 3, 8, and 11 are about to blow. If they blow without us, they'll be squashed and we'll have to re-build out there. So Beetee, Cecelia and Chaff are all working on building their numbers up and getting firmer plans together. Can't have people going rogue, starting impulsive, half-cocked plans." He looks directly at Gale. He's right. He's also sober, in spite of the fact that he chronically smells like liquor and unwashed sheets.

"What about 13?" Peeta mutters. His skin is sallow. He probably hasn't slept well in weeks, and has hardly eaten on the tour. His eyes are again sunken, and his hands shake a little. His hair stands up in cowlicks, and I fight the urge to comb them down the way I do Prim's.

Haymitch sighs and says sarcastically, "Peeta is somehow convinced that district 13 is still alive and well, and will save us all."

The room goes silent. We're all wondering how bad Peeta has gotten, and no one wants to find out. What is going on with him?

"But Finnick said – " Peeta shuts his mouth mid-sentence, rolls his eyes, and looks away from Haymitch. This is probably the conversation they've been having on the train all these weeks.

"Here's what we need" continues Haymitch, "We need more people. People you can trust, people who will be ready when it's time. People who can spread word quickly at the right time and rally people together. It will probably be a few years until any of this happens, so they will have to be people with patience. Katniss, can you get some of the seam kids? Teenagers? Madge, I need you to grab the town kids, and keep looking at your dad's intelligence. Gale, we need you to _subtly_ round up some miners. Not just from your crew. We don't want a repeat..."

He trails off, seeing Gale flex his jaw.

"I've talked to Peeta's dad and Hazelle, and they are going to round up some other adults..." Both Peeta and Gale look surprised at this. "We'll meet back here again the day after the Quarter Quell announcement. Each of you bring a couple more people. Not everyone, just a few. We need a few people to know what's happening, but no one can have the full plan. That way if there's a weak link in the chain, the whole thing doesn't fall down."

"The Quarter Quell announcement..." Like the rest of us, Gale had forgotten that this year was the 75th Hunger Games. "What will it be? Are we at risk?" The question is less assured than I'm used to hearing from Gale. "Katniss has 2 more reapings, we have siblings..." Peeta turns pale, certainly thinking of the prospect of having to mentor me or Madge.

"It will be exactly what's most convenient to Snow." Haymitch's voice is bitter. "Just act like you normally do. The Capitol has written us off, which is actually a really good thing. They don't think we're a threat, and we need to keep up that image. The girls should keep visiting Peeta, spending some time in his house so the spies can hear them talking about non-rebellious things. Just keep living your life. I don't think anyone is looking at district 12."

Gale looks surprised again at the news that we're visiting Peeta. He asks me a question with his eyes. I shrug. It's not really his business...I have to fill the hours between school with something now that he's down in the mines. We adjourn, Gale leaving first, followed by the victors, then Madge and I. She locks the doors behind her.

When we go hunting the next Sunday, Gale brings up the topic of Peeta. I haven't purposefully kept from him that Peeta and I have become such good friends, but I also haven't freely offered that information. I realize that, in Gale's eyes, this probably looks like a betrayal. Or like I'm hiding something. Especially after his implication the other night that he's jealous. If nothing else, Gale is straightforward to a fault, and appreciates that quality in others.

"How often are you over there, Catnip?" He brings it up lightly, but I know what he's wondering underneath.

"A few days a week. Sometimes Madge and I visit him after school, sometimes I go on my own."

"So what do you do over there?" He's suspicious, and probably thinking of all the long hours we've spent together in the woods. Nothing's happened out here, unless you count the time he had to carry me home.

Hopefully he believes me that nothing happens over at Peeta's, either. "We mostly talk. Madge and Delly and I do homework and Peeta's good at Math. He shows me some of his paintings or bakes for us. He's lonely up there, Gale."

"He has a thing for you. And I can't compete with your tendency to save every little lost duck." _I imagine the spring I was 13, and I found an abandoned duck's nest. The mother had been killed by some sort of wild animal, and six tiny chicks had been left alone to die. I'd spend weeks bringing them ground up fish and worms every afternoon, much to Gale's chagrin. He'd accused me of squandering our hunting time on baby ducks which would surely be eaten by a nearby fox anyway. I'd argued back that it wasn't their fault their mother was dead, and I wanted to care for them. It was the first argument we'd had, and the first time we really got a feel for what would happen when we went head-to-head. It was like running into a brick wall. For a year, I'd refused to even shoot any ducks, and he'd teased me about it mercilessly._

I shake off the memory. "He's not a lost duck, Gale. He's a friend. Nothing but a friend. Why are you so jealous anyway?"

He leans forward, his eyes on my lips, and I know what's coming. Panic rising in my chest, I roughly push him away. "I thought I made myself clear, Hawthorne."

He's hurt (and probably slightly angry), but gathers his bow and gets back to hunting. "Fine, Catnip. I can take a hint." We don't speak much the rest of the day.

The winter is a cold one, probably one of the coldest I can remember. My visits to Peeta dwindle, the long walk complicated by the bitter cold which even freezes the little hairs inside my nose and numbs my toes despite two pairs of socks. On our last visit before I give up entirely, I try to get him to talk about his time on the tour, or what he did in the Capitol when I caught a news clip of him "out on the town" with a pretty red-haired Capitol woman. He refuses to speak of it, and begins shaking again. I choose to leave that topic alone.

My hunting trips also dwindle, until all we can manage is a couple hours on Sundays. The game isn't out, and Gale is frustrated. Luckily, this winter we have Parcel Days so no one is starving. Buttercup has come inside to be a nuisance, and Lady curls up on the side of the pen closest to the Mellark's pigs. Prim's small collection of chickens join her, and we have to break the ice on their water dish each morning.

Finally, there's a blizzard that lasts for days, sealing us all in our own houses. Me and Madge in town, Peeta in the Victor's Village, and Gale in the seam. The mines close off and on. School is cancelled half the time (not that the seam kids can get through the mounds of snow). I spend my time drying herbs for my mother, sorting medicines and spending time with Prim.

She has grand plans to begin growing some of the herbs we use in the shop, and she's combing through Capitol catalogues to pick seeds for the spring. When she brings up the topic of boys, Prim insists that she and Rory are just friends and rolls her eyes when I remind her that they are children. In return, she teases, insisting that Gale and I are more. I don't even bother repeating my speech about marriage and babies, I simply roll my eyes and change the subject, all too aware of the blush on my cheeks.


	8. The Reading of the Card

**A/N This is a short chapter, but you'll see why it needs to end where it does. The next one will be longer, and will be soon. **

It's early March when the world begins to thaw again and we can finally make our way through the district. As the snow melts, the paths are gritty with the coal dust that was embedded in the banks. Everything is gray, damp and weary. Gale and I go out hunting for a few Sundays, but the game is sparse. What few rabbits and squirrels we get are emaciated with the rough winter.

Madge and I begin to visit Peeta again, and Delly joins us regularly. We let Peeta bake for us, look at his paintings, and give him the gossip from school. Madge recruits Delly to the rebellion. I'm useless. I hardly talk to people at school, and now that I live in town, half the seam kids want nothing to do with me.

The first Tuesday in March, there's Mandatory Viewing at 7pm. Mandatory Viewing in district 12 means you can watch at your house or the square, as long as the peacekeepers can verify that you're watching if there's a random check. It's impossible to avoid anyway; the TVs automatically switch on. Most people head to the square for events like this, if only to talk to their neighbors and catch up with friends. Luckily, if you live above a shop, you can watch on your own TV in your house, but still be close enough to socialize. This is our first viewing in town, and Prim is excited to invite friends over.

"Let's have Rory and Gale come watch with us!" She glances directly at me with a triumphant look on her face.

Luckily, my mom interjects. Her face is hard and her hands are shaking. "This is probably the reading of the card...let them be with their family." She looks out the window, sadly and continues. "My friend May was reaped in the last quell..." She runs back downstairs to work in the shop.

"How about we just offer them to come here, and they can pick. Hazelle and Vick and Posy, too." I say it cheerfully, but deep down I'm worried. On our first visit after the blizzard, Peeta and Haymitch gave us a quick history lesson. Last Quarter Quell they reaped four kids from each district. The one before, the districts had to elect their tributes. I can't fathom what new horrors they've come up with for this one. And Prim and I are both of reaping age. So's Rory. And Madge.

The morning of the announcement, Prim stops Rory before school and cheerfully invites him over. He smiles and says yes, and asks me if Gale can come. "Your whole family is invited" I reply, as enthusiastically as possible, despite the knot in my stomach and lump in my throat.

At 6:30, I'm alone in the apothecary. My mother rarely leaves me in charge, as I tend to run when there's an emergency, but she is next door talking to the baker. Prim is upstairs working on her homework, and I'm the only one left. The shops close 15 minutes before the announcement so that we can all head upstairs. I glance at the clock as the door bursts open. Posy and Vick run in, yelling and screaming. I hear a growl from the sidewalk, and Gale and Rory follow behind, laughing. Hazelle takes up the rear, shaking her head.

"Gale's a mutt today, and Vick and Posy are escaping" she explains.

I smile at Gale's imitation of a growling, snarling mutt, and the kids' squeals of delight. For a moment I imagine Gale as a father, playing with his own children. Dark hair, gray eyes...I mentally replace them with blonde haired children and vow to set him up with Madge. Maybe she can get him out of the mines.

"Are we staying or going to the square?" Hazelle asks, cheerfully.

"No, the Gale-monster will get us!" Squeals Posy, hiding under the exam table.

"Fine" he says, "I'll stay here with Katniss. You all can go outside." I freeze at the thought of being awkwardly alone with Gale. I'm not afraid of him, but there's a flutter in my chest that I don't totally trust, and I'm not sure how well I can maintain my resolve.

Hazelle looks at him sharply when she sees my look of panic. "Maybe you and Katniss can keep an eye on Rory. I'm assuming Prim is upstairs?" I give her a look of thanks.

"Yes, and she probably needs help with the science homework" I respond. I look at Rory, who is grinning like he's gotten away with something. "Gale will go with you. I'll come up in a couple of minutes." I glance back at Hazelle and smile. "My mom is next door if you need anything."

Hazelle watches as her oldest boys traipse up the stairs to look for Prim. Then she looks to me. "Give him a chance, Katniss. I've been there. I've been that person." She glances fervently at Posy and Vick, giggling under the table. "It's worth it to let your guard down, even if there's pain." I've always been struck by how alike Hazelle and I are. When I first met her when I was 12, I fantasized that she was my mother, instead of the vacant woman I came home to. Even through her grief she had been steady and capable. Her children love her, and she would do anything for them. And tonight, it appears she's read my mind.

Then I'm left standing in an empty shop. The clock hits 6:45, and I head upstairs. As I step into the room, Rory stands up from the table, where he and Prim have been poring over their homework. "I call the big couch!" he yells, flopping down on the overstuffed couch. "Prim is with me!"

Prim, true to her name, calmly walks over and daintily sits next to Rory on the couch, her eyes daring me to say something. I roll mine, settling into the smaller couch (_loveseat, my mother's voice breathes in my head_), and Gale sits next to me, leaning back and draping his arm over the back of the couch. Rory follows suit, his arm around Prim.

"Rory..." Gale's voice warns.

"What?! You're doing it!" Rory pouts.

"I am 19 years old. I'm an adult. You are 13."

"Katniss is only 17." Rory teases.

"Sixteen" Gale corrects. He's right. My birthday isn't until May, but there's no reason he should know that. "And Prim is a lady, so treat her that way."

"So Katniss isn't a lady?" Rory shoots back. I glance at Gale, faux outrage on my face.

Prim interjects, "Nope, we're still not sure what Katniss is."

We all burst out laughing, and Gale settles his arm down around my shoulders. Rory removes his from Prim. I feel overly conscious of my body, my shoulders. I feel that opossum feeling again, and fight the urge to stiffen up, shrug him off. Do I lean in toward Gale? Put my head on his shoulder? Move to another chair? I'm debating whether I even like this position or not as the TV turns on and the screen fills with President Snow's face.

The sight of his puffy lips and enhanced features makes my decision for me. Gale's arm tightens as I lean on him, my head on his shoulder. This is the first time we've seen Snow's face since finding out he ordered our fathers' deaths. Rory and Prim have stopped giggling as well, and are shoulder to shoulder. They, of course, don't know about the mining "accident," but the situation is terrifying enough. Three of us are of reaping age, and they're going to tell us what new, horrible twist is involved in the Quarter Quell.

As the program begins, Prim postulates, "maybe they'll just cancel it this year and we can all be safe."

"Yeah, right" interjects Rory, "maybe they'll just reap everyone and kill us all." Prim's face goes grey.

"Rory, stop." Gale is pleading, his own face pale. The gravity of the quell is being explained on-screen, and we dare not give the Capitol any new ideas.

President Snow picks the card marked "75" from the front of an old wooden box and breaks the seal. He clears his throat and reads: "To remind the district that 13 districts rebelled, and all 13 were subdued, this year's tributes will be reaped from the pool of 13-year-olds."

Silence. Gale's arm has somehow tightened further around me, and I'm not fighting it. Our eyes are drawn to Rory and Prim.

They've grasped hands and tears are in Prim's eyes. Rory's eyes are wide, terrified. We're all immobile as the news sinks in.

Prim finally breaks the silence. "Us" she whispers, burying her face in Rory's shoulder. He puts his arms around her, and Gale and I run across the room to wrap our arms around them ourselves. Prim begins to cry and Rory looks close. I feel the tears begin to flow from my own eyes, and Gale reaches over Rory and Prim's heads to gently stroke my hair.

This is how our mothers find us.


	9. The Plan

The next afternoon, we meet again at the old candy shop. Gale looks like he's been up all night, and Haymitch puts a comforting hand on his shoulder as he shuffles in, eyes bloodshot. He's been drinking. Gale glares at him. Madge and Peeta give me hugs. Delly (who came with Madge or Peeta, I'm not sure which) offers me a handkerchief for my wet eyes. As promised, Gale has brought Leevy, a girl from his crew, and Sedric, a mining supervisor who he's become friendly with. I've brought no one. As we settle in, Hazelle enters and sits next to me. Peeta looks around and goes to the window, then lets his dad in.

My mother is with him.

My mom and I share a look. It's apparent she didn't know I was going to be here, but she pats my hand anyway, and sits down between Haymitch and the baker.

Haymitch sets up his little book, and the green light appears. "Well, we know what we're up against..." he begins. "This might be it. This might be the spark...sending a bunch of 13-year-olds to their death..." He sounds bitter and angry and everyone sits quietly, contemplating the horror of 13-year-olds fighting to the death.

Gale breaks the silence. "Will they use this to punish us? Reap our family members?" My mom stifles a sob.

"Punish us for what? My sources say they still don't even know we're here. They think 12 is useless, because we are useless." Haymitch's voice, usually slurred and soft when he's drunk, is harsh and loud. "So, Mine Boy, I don't think this will be a purposeful reaping. They don't care about what happens to us. Any of us. But blind bad luck is still at play." Gale seems at Haymitch's explanation, but restless. We've talked about rebellion, but we haven't actually done or changed anything. Seditious talk is, of course, forbidden. We know we're at risk just by sitting together talking about the rebellion. But Gale and I are at risk of arrest or worse every time we crawl under the fence. This is probably the least of our worries. And if I know Gale, he's more frustrated that we haven't done anything than he is worried about the reaping.

Peeta begins "This is actually probably about district 8...Cecelia's oldest is 13."

Whatever happens in district 12's reaping, a victor's child will be in the field.

Madge picks up where Peeta left off. "According to my dad's reports, district 8 had a riot a few days ago. Took over communications, peacekeeper headquarters. But the Capitol sent in reinforcements." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "They blew up the entire uniform factory. Killed 200 people."

Gale and I look at one another, and he's grinding his teeth. It's too close...too much like the mining accident. From the corner of my eye, I see Hazelle looking between us suspiciously. She must know we suspect.

Madge continues "I also got a hold of the reaping numbers. Most of the 13-year-olds have 2 slips, including Rory and Prim" she glances at me, "There are 77 13-year-olds in the district. The one with the most has 12. Twenty-five have taken tesserae to some extent, mostly kids from the Community Home. There will be 304 slips in the bowls, 140 girls, 164 boys"

_The odds are in her favor. The odds are in her favor. _I block out the rest of the meeting and repeat the mantra to myself. I vaguely hear a discussion about disrupting coal production, or overcoming peacekeepers and blocking the train tracks. Talk about how long to wait, how to keep ourselves secret, how to communicate with other districts. But I need to repeat the chant. _The odds are in her favor. Prim's favor._

We leave the meeting in pairs. My mom and I are some of the last, and we slip back to the apothecary. I'm surprised to find Gale and Peeta eyeing each other warily, and Prim and Rory sitting behind the counter, their homework spread in front of them.

Peeta looks at my mom. "Could I...borrow your girls for a few minutes? I want to talk to them. And those two." He gestures toward the Hawthornes and Prim and I.

She nods, and the five of us shuffle upstairs. Prim and Rory sit again on the couch, and Peeta takes the third cushion. Gale and I are again in the loveseat. We all look at each other.

"Look..." starts Peeta, "I don't think either of them will be purposefully reaped, but we don't know if the odds will really work in our favor. They're the only 13-year-olds I know personally, and I don't think I can..." His eyes get that anxious look again.

"You have to mentor, don't you?" Gale interjects, and catches his breath. He's probably imagining trying to save the younger children. For all of Gale's annoyance with Peeta (and with Haymitch, for that matter), I know he'd never wish that on anyone.

Peeta nods. "If it is them...I want them to be ready."

The suggestion awakes something inside me. This morning I felt helpless and scared, but now I can _do_ something. Train my baby sister to survive. I keep thinking of the reaping as a death sentence, but there's still a small chance we can get them back, even if they're reaped. "I can teach them to shoot." I hear myself say.

"I'll teach them to wrestle." Peeta says quietly.

"I know snares..." Gale offers.

Prim's voice is strong and clear. "I know lots about plants...I can teach Rory how to find himself food."

Rory is angry. "And I'll teach us all how to do nothing, since Gale won't take me to the woods, won't let me help...he just wants to be alone with Katniss." He's bitter. And probably scared. If he's anything like Gale, he'll choose anger over fear.

Peeta sighs, and Gale shoots back, "sorry for keeping you safe, Ror. Sorry for not wanting you to have to do what I do. Sorry for keeping you from tessera." He stands threateningly in front of his younger brother, a habit he has when he's angry. Threatening people with his size. Rory imitates him and pulls himself up to his full height, but he's still a good 6 inches shorter than Gale's tall frame.

Prim places a hand on Rory's arm. "It doesn't matter now. We'll learn, we'll go with them, I'll grab my dad's plant book so we can study at lunch. We can visit Peeta after school." She smiles at us. "Thanks. I'm a little less scared."

Rory mutters angrily and sits back down so we can come up with a training schedule.

And so we begin their training. Rory is surprisingly good with a bow, and easily picks up snares from his brother. One afternoon in the woods, the boys engage in a heated conversation about catching people (instead of animals), and I see Prim gagging on her lunch. She's hopeless with the bow, and cries whenever we kill anything. When we go visit Peeta, she is too timid to wrestle well, giving in too quickly.

She's going to have to rely solely on her survival skills. If she's reaped. _If_, I keep reminding myself. _But she won't be. The odds are in her favor._

One afternoon, after a disastrous wrestling lesson (where Gale and Rory ended up coming to real blows, and Peeta and I had to pull them apart while Prim screamed at them), I mention to Peeta that we should teach the kids to swim. He furrows his brow, probably remembering the games a few years ago when the arena flooded. The winner was the girl who could swim. "But where?" he asks, knowing that there's nowhere in the district to swim.

"There's a lake a few miles from town. My dad showed me."

His eyes light up. "Can you give me a few weeks? I'll have a surprise."

We spend most of April and the start of May in the same pattern: the kids learn wrestling from Peeta a few days a week. Saturdays we work on shooting (Rory is surprisingly accurate and getting better by the day), and Sundays the four of us venture through the woods. First the crocuses bloom, then the tulips. As the forest comes alive, we talk about survival skills, and Prim points out various poisonous berries and edible plants.

In mid-spring, Peeta and Haytmich open a restaurant on the other side of the butcher, and hire Greasy Sae and Ripper to run it. I suspect that this particular venture is not borne out of altruism, but out of Haymitch's desire to get Ripper a liquor license. Regardless, they become good neighbors and annoy Mrs. Mellark, so it's a positive development.

Prim and Rory seem to be getting even closer, and we frequently catch them holding hands, or her leaning her forehead on his shoulder. When the lilacs bloom, Prim mentions that they are her favorite flower. Rory picks a cluster from the bush outside of school one afternoon, and hands it to her shyly. I catch her pressing it into a book that night.

"What if they're both reaped?" asks Gale one afternoon as we wait for them to join us by the creek. "They can't both live. They won't separate...they won't kill each other."

I shake my head, refusing to entertain the thought. "They won't be reaped. Neither one will be. We'll be fine."

He scowls and goes to check the snare line, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Just after my birthday it's finally warm enough to go swimming. We invite Madge and Peeta to join us, and Peeta grins and informs me he has a surprise. All six of us take the long hike to the lake on a Sunday morning, and I show them to the little stone house my dad once showed me. "Us girls can change in here, and you boys change out back." I instruct, grabbing old clothes for Prim and I from my bag.

"Wait!" says Peeta, "I have a surprise." From his bag, he produces six swimsuits. These are clearly Capitol made and ordered, and come in bright, summery colors. "I'm sorry, I hope I got the sizes right...I don't know girl sizes very well..." his face is red.

Madge laughs, and we all join in, grabbing the suits he offers. "Thank you, Peeta." She says warmly, and the three of us girls go change in the little house.

"Are you dressed?" I yell out the window, refusing to look.

Peeta, Gale and Madge laugh at me. "What, afraid of seeing a little skin, Katniss?" Peeta's voice is teasing. I scowl and walk out of the building. The girls' suits are all one pieces (I'm silently thankful that Peeta didn't order the tiny bikinis I caught a glimpse of once on a newscast). Mine is red, Prim's a soft lavender, and Madge's is royal blue. They're comfortable and easy to move in, but I'm entirely too self conscious when I realize that my legs are on display for all the boys. Madge is much more confident, and Prim too innocent to care.

The boys have on suits which amount to brightly striped shorts. Their chests are all bare, and I blush when I realize how much skin they are showing as well. Rather than stand staring, I immediately jump into the water off of a rock ledge.

After I resurface, I yell "I'm the only one here who knows how to swim, so you'd all better be nice to me!" The warm air and cool water calm me down quickly, and soon we're all splashing in the lake.

The swimming lesson is successful. Prim takes to the water like a fish (_thank goodness, something is going well for her_, I think). Everyone else seems to be able to tread water and move in their desired direction by the end of the morning. At one point, Gale figures out how to swim underwater and surprise me, pulling me under by my ankle. When I surface, I find myself half furious and half amused, and I attempt to do the same to him. He easily lifts me out of the water, throwing me further into the lake. We play-fight in the marshy deep area for a few minutes, and I discover that, no matter what I do, I can't best him. He can touch the slimy bottom here, and I can't. Eventually he hauls me over his shoulder like I'm Rory, and trudges back to shore as everyone giggles.

When he places me on the rocky beach, I suddenly remember our mutual state of near-nakedness and our physical closeness. I can tell I'm blushing again, and I mutter something about being done with swimming. I don't return to the water where everyone else is splashing. Instead, I change in the little house and lay out our lunch, ignoring the teasing from Madge and Peeta. Eventually the others change into their clothes and we feast on tiny, early strawberries and bakery bread, allowing our suits to dry in the sun. Then we hike back to town.


	10. Reaping Day

Reaping day comes much too quickly. We pick aimlessly at our breakfast while the minutes tick by until we have to be out in the square. Eventually, my mom dresses Prim in last year's reaping outfit and braids her hair, finishing with a kiss on the top of her head. Prim's grown taller and more womanly this year, and the outfit fits much better. She doesn't look like my little duck any more. There will be only 77 children in the reaping pool today. Two of them will have their names called, and will most likely die within the next week. I hold back a sob as we walk to the reaping area, hugging her tightly when we break off so she can stand in the pens.

The roped off areas are smaller this year, meant to house only a fraction of the usual crowd. Prim signs in, and joins her friends on the girls' side, clinging tightly to two blonde girls from her class. My mom and I watch from the back, slightly behind the boys' area. My mom keeps twisting and untwisting her apron repeatedly, making me even more nervous. Gale walks up beside me, followed by Hazelle, Vick and Posy. Vick looks terrified, and Posy has been crying.

"They're not doing well." Gale whispers to me. "They're sure he's getting reaped today."

He doesn't look very confident himself. I grab his hand without thinking and squeeze. He squeezes back, and I consider for a second pulling my hand away. But it steadies me a bit to have him there, and I lace my fingers through his as we wait. His callouses, thickened from the mines, rub against mine anchoring me to the moment.

Up on the stage, Peeta sits, looking worried and scared. Haymitch is next to him, obviously fall-down drunk. He sways as he lowers himself into his chair. The mayor looks annoyed, and Madge sits next to him, where her mother would sit if she weren't so ill. Effie, her wig a big blue mess of curls, steps up to the microphone. "Welcome to the 75th Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

As she drones on about this year's games (and the _excitement_ of having the reigning victor) I watch my sister. She and Rory share a look, and she's pale. I tighten my grip on Gale's hand, and he covers my hand with both his big ones. "They'll be OK, Catnip" he whispers.

"Ladies first!" Effie is much too excited about this. "This year's female tribute will be..." Her fingers reach into the bowl, snagging a slip from the small pile.

_Not Prim, not Prim, not Prim..._

"...Lark Tanner!"

A dark-haired girl from the Community Home stumbles toward the stage, openly crying. I have a feeling that tonight's recap will involve a lot of tears. She's just a child. They all are. Lark is small, and her ill-fitting brown dress clings to the wrong parts of her body. Her face is slightly gaunt, belying the official policy that community home kids are well-cared for. She wipes her eyes on her sleeve as she looks out at the district.

I let go of a breath that I didn't know I was holding and close my eyes. _Prim is safe_. But Gale's hand clutches desperately at mine as Effie reaches for the boys' bowl. I close my eyes again as she grabs a paper and unfolds it. _Not Rory, not Rory, not Rory_, I chant in my head.

And that's when the world comes crashing down.

"Rory Hawthorne!"

My stomach lurches and I fight the urge to dash out of the square and into the woods.

Gale stiffens next to me, and I notice the vein in his neck budging the way it does when he's angry. My ears begin ringing. On Gale's other side Hazelle's face is blank, and she bends to comfort Posy, who is screaming. Vick starts running toward Rory's place in the corrals, but Hazelle manages to grab his shirt and pull him back.

Rory is frozen in place while all the other 13s stare at him. He takes a deep breath, shakes his head a bit, and walks purposefully up to the stage. As he turns to look at the crowd, I'm relieved to see no tears in his eyes, only a hard, angry stare. His neck vein is bulging as well.

_Anger is better than panic_, I reason with myself.

Gale begins squeezing my hand even harder, and I glance back up at his face, red with rage. I see the glint in his eyes. I recognize that look. It's usually saved for his rages in the woods against the Capitol. The rages where he says and does outrageous, treasonous things. Rages that, in this moment, would get him arrested or worse.

"Gale!" I hiss, under my breath, frantically looking toward Hazelle. She is kneeling on the ground, tears in her eyes, while Posy and Vick sob. "Gale! Not now." I rub the back of his wrist with my free hand.

He looks down at our hands and snaps out of his thoughts for a moment, then releases me, flexing his fingers. His face is a little less red, but his eyes are still wild. He opens and closes his mouth, and looks toward the stage. Effie is chirping cheerfully on, and Gale's feet shuffle on the ground as if he is going to run.

I yank his arm, bringing his ear down to my lips. "Not here. Not now. We can go to the woods after...we have to go coach him. He can come home."

He clenches his jaw and nods, grabbing my hand again. I'm blinking back tears, but I make my face blank and emotionless in preparation for what's to come. They finish up onstage and I block out the sounds Effie calling for volunteers (ha!) and the reading of the Treaty of Treason. Peeta has stepped forward to comfort Lark as she cries. Peacekeepers lead the tributes into the justice building and Haymitch stumbles forward, knocking the boys' reaping bowl off of its stand, scattering papers everywhere as he staggers into the building.

Gale bends down to pick up Posy, putting a comforting arm on his mom's shoulder. She straightens up and breathes deeply, one arm around Vick.

"We should go say goodbye." She wears a mask I know all too well. Gale nods. We trudge wordlessly toward the justice building.

As we approach, Prim runs up, sobbing loudly as she throws her arms around me. My mom follows, clearly fighting back tears. I grab my sister's shoulders. "Prim! Look at me. You have to calm down. Don't make this worse. We can get him home. He can shoot. He's fast. He can wrestle. But you have to calm down. We can't upset him." She nods and wipes her eyes on her shirt. My mom shoots me a grateful look.

Gale whispers, "let my mom and the kids have longer chunk of time for the family that comes last. Send Prim in first so we can figure out what to tell him." He signs us in, and Darius and Cray usher Prim into the ornate sitting room.

We sit along the wall on the marble floor. My mom has walked Hazelle and the kids down the hall, muttering comforting words. Gale turns his to me and whispers, "how should he play it?"

I turn this question over in my head and keep my voice steady. "He's angry. He's big for his age. They're all 13 this year..." The horror of the situation hits me again, and I swallow hard. "He's not going to be able to fake a bad score or pretend he's weak. He's going to have to show them what he can do. He'll probably be seen as a threat, but it's his best bet. "

Gale nods. "Hopefully Peeta can teach him some interview skills, or he's going to yell and scream on stage and get himself killed by the Capitol instead of the other tributes. You know how good Peeta is with an audience. Maybe he can help him figure out what to do with Ceasar."

I leave out the fact that last year, I refused to watch the interviews and hid behind the Mayor's house.

"He needs to find a bow. Find water, try to outlast everyone he can. I think he can kill, if it comes down to it." Gale sighs and looks at me. "He's got a better shot than Prim would have."

I nod. There's no good response to that. We sit in silence as we wait for our turn. When Prim slips out of the room, her face is again streaked with tears. She runs into my mother's arms and they go out the front door of the Justice Building.

From down the hall, Darius calls Gale's name. We stand up and walk over to him. He glances back and forth between us and the sign in sheet. "Gale Hawthorne" he says, "brother. You have 15 minutes." I peek at the sheet and notice my name isn't there.

"Can't have you on their lists 2 years in a row, Catnip." The words are whispered close to my ear. I nod, grateful that Gale thought, in the middle of the reaping, about saving me. And I vow to give Darius an extra rabbit on Saturday

We open the doors to the sitting room, and find Rory, looking small and boyish in a stiff armchair. In the room behind him, there are broken vases and ripped curtains. I raise my eyebrows. His eyes are wet, but there's a spark of anger in his face. He looks at Gale. "What do I do, Gale?" His voice is pleading, but steady.

"You win." Gale has pulled up a chair next to Rory's and put an arm around his shoulder. He sounds more confident than I feel. "Here's how: You play it confident and tough. Show the gamemakers what you can do. Learn how to interview from that Mellark kid so they don't all know how pissed you are. It's all a big game, and you can play it. You'll get sponsors. You're big, you have skills. Get a bow from the cornucopia and get out of there. Find water and hunt for food. Wait for them all to kill each other. Come home."

Rory looks at me for confirmation. I nod. "That sounds right. You can do this Rory. You're a good shot, and smart."

"I have to kill people." Rory's face is ashen, as if the gravity of the situation has just sunk in.

"It's the only way home." Gale is looking him straight in the eyes.

We chat for a few more minutes about game plans, and Gale hugs him tightly. "You have to come home."

Rory gives me a tight hug as well. "Take care of Prim" he whispers.

"I promise."

Darius escorts us out of the room, and the door shuts behind us. Hazelle, Vick and Posy are ushered into the room and given half an hour. Gale looks ready to smash a vase himself, and we stand in the hallway unsure of what to do next.

Peeta slips out of another ornate room where Lark must be. He sees us and looks up and down the hall, confirming that it's empty. We follow him out the back door, and Gale and I sit on a low stone wall.

"I will bring him home." Peeta's eyes are intense and he paces as he talks. "I don't know how, but I'll do anything it takes."

"You'd better." Gale stands up, inches from Peeta's face. "If my brother doesn't make it home, I'll track you down, Mellark."

Peeta calmly stands his ground. "I'm a victor, Hawthorne. I killed 3 people. You don't scare me."

"No, you didn't kill anyone. They happened to die because of your actions, but you didn't kill anyone. Not really."

Peeta's hands are in fists at his side. I can tell where this is going. But Peeta closes his eyes and unclenches his hands. Gale's remain in fists, and I momentarily envision the story about him knocking out Nick Mellark.

"I promise you, on my life, that I will do anything I can to bring your brother home."

"How do we know you weren't telling Lark's people the exact same thing?" says Gale, challengingly.

Peeta sighs. "Lark has no people. I was visiting her because no one else did."

We fall silent, and my heart breaks for little Lark, who has no one in this world. Peeta continues, addressing only me. "I knew being a mentor would be terrible, but I never thought it would be a friend's brother. He has skills, right? I can get him sponsors? He can hunt and swim?"

When he says "friend's brother," I'm not sure if he's referring to Gale as a friend, or to Rory as my brother. Both confuse me equally.

I nod, a lump in my throat. "Just teach him to interview. He's too angry right now...he'll say something that will get him in trouble." _Or all of us_ I think.

Gale ignores him entirely and sits back down, putting an arm around my shoulder. He breathes a few times, relaxes his muscles and quietly asks "is this my fault? For being friends with Haymitch and Madge?" Even out here, it seems as if someone will hear, but I know he means the rebellion.

Peeta leans close between us, as if to hug us both. "When Haymitch fell, he looked at the slips. This wasn't a fix. Just bad luck."

"You will bring him home." I'm not sure if Gale's words are a threat or a promise. Peeta looks at Gale's arm around my shoulder and nods.

"I promise." He pauses again. "Katniss? If something big happens on that screen...a spark...promise me you'll have a plan? To stay safe."

Then he walks back into the building.


	11. After the Reaping

Gale and I walk wordlessly toward the woods, listening for the train that will take Rory to the Capitol. It whistles twice, and we duck under the fence. Once we're out of sight of the meadow, Gale begins to scream. His screams are angry, desperate. He kicks a dead log, and grabs a tree branch, using it to beat the trees and bushes around us. Gale yells unintelligible things about the Capitol, and a huger variety of curse words than I've ever been familiar with. He throws rocks, sticks, pinecones. A safe distance away (there's no way I'm getting close to that temper tantrum), I settle into a pile of leaves and curl into a ball, the tears already falling.

Rory.

I've known him since he was 8, all freckles and buck teeth. I've taught him to shoot and swim. I've chased him away from my little sister. I picture him playfully putting his arm around Prim. And now he is going to fight for his life. And I'm stuck here in district 12, unable to do anything to help him. It's worse for Gale. If it had been Prim up there on that stage, I'm not sure I could even breathe.

Twenty minutes pass, and Gale collapses next to me, his anger finally spent. I sit up and am surprised to see tears on Gale's face. I've never seen Gale cry in all the years I've known him. He tends toward anger and impulsiveness, not tears. But next to me, he has his knees bent, arms loosely clasped around his legs, looking helpless and grief-stricken. I scramble through the leaves and sit closer to him. He lowers his head to his knees, and his body shakes with sobs.

Not knowing what else to do, I awkwardly put my arms around him. He shifts so we're side by side, and wraps his arms around me, tucking my head under his chin. My arms are around his waist, his shirt is soft beneath my cheek. We sit in silence, punctuated only by occasional sniffs from each of us.

"I can't do this, Catnip." He breaks the silence. "I can't watch him die." I can feel his voice through his chest, and I self-consciously pull him closer.

"I'll be with you. And he won't die. He'll come home."

"You mean that?"

"Of course I think your brother can win."

"No, that you'll be with me."

"The whole time." I promise.

We sit in silence. An hour passes. Two. His tears pass quickly, and his face becomes hard and blank. Mine eventually subside as well.

As the sun sets, we head back toward town. The reaping recaps aren't mandatory viewing, but we need to see what Rory is up against.

My mom is at the counter when we enter the apothecary, and Hazelle is clutching a cup of tea at the table in the corner. Posy and Vick are playing quietly in the corner, arranging colored slips of paper to make different shapes. Gale goes to kiss the kids on the top of the head, and my mom gives me a hug.

"Prim is upstairs...she probably needs some company. There's bread on the table. The baker brought it by for us and the Hawthornes."

I nod and walk slowly up the stairs. Gale follows. The apartment is dark and quiet, so I flip on the lights and search for Prim. She's curled in my mom's bed, sleeping with a tearstained face. I curl up around her, feeling how warm and alive she is. Glad, for the moment, that she is here, she is whole, she hasn't been sent to her death. She stirs next to me.

"Katniss" she murmurs, her voice hoarse, "he can do it, right? He can win?"

"I'm sure he can, Little Duck. Are you hungry?"

Gale has left us alone to talk (although it occurs to me that it may be too painful to see me with Prim). While we've been talking, he's set the bread (sweet and full of raisins) on the table with butter from the refrigerator, and some fruit we gathered the day before. I can hear a deep voice downstairs as I re-braid Prim's hair.

Gale returns to the apartment. "I took some down to my mom. She'll forget to eat if she's not careful."

We wordlessly sit and eat while Prim picks at her food. She sighs and turns on the TV to wait for the recap. Soon Caesar Flickerman begins the broadcast, his hair and eyebrows dyed a bright pink.

"Welcome to the 75th Annual Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" He's cheerful and expansive. "This year is especially exciting, the third Quarter Quell! All of our tributes are 13 years old. The field is younger than ever. Who. Will. Be. Victorious."

Prim moves to the big couch, looking tiny as she sits alone. We sit on the loveseat, hesitant to take the spot where Rory sat only a few weeks ago. Gale rolls his eyes as they begin to show the opening to the reapings, but Prim pulls out a notebook and begins to write at each district appears on the screen.

District 1: We are all surprised to find volunteers, even at this age. District one always has volunteers, but they're usually 17 or 18 years old. My mind searches for a reason that a 13 year old would choose almost certain death. It comes up empty. The boy is named "Spectacular" (Gale snorts), and he's stocky and fierce. The girl is "Satin" and has long curly blonde hair.

District 2 also has volunteers. Geo, the male tribute has dark hair and eyes that narrow as he stares at the camera. The girl is named Pepper, and she is taller than the other girls I see in the square. Her hair is in pigtails, and her nose turns up to a smattering of freckles.

I glance at Prim's paper, and she's written down their names with phrases like "big" or "strong." She's added a circled "V" in front of each of them. Volunteers.

District 3 is much different. Greta, the girl is called first. She's tiny and thin, and tears fill her eyes as she stands on stage. She has no chance, even in a field of 13-year-olds. Tech, the boy, is surprisingly large for district 3. When they call his name he walks confidently to the front and smiles for the cameras. He might be one to watch.

Usually District 4 has volunteers, but not this year. They must have more humanity than 1 or 2. Their tributes, however, look well fed and intelligent. They don't cry, simply stare in the distance. Felicity, the girl, has straight auburn hair to her shoulders, held back by a thin green headband. The boy, Shawn, is probably about Rory's size, but built slightly skinnier. His hair is cut close to his scalp, but his eyes pierce with the same green as his partner's headband. Prim writes down "smart." An announcer cuts in to discuss the fact that this is Annie Cresta's first year mentoring, as she's avoided the control room until now.

District 5, on the other hand, produces two tiny children (because really, that's what they are) named Coco and Micah. Both cry as they're led off the stage. Prim puts an "F" next to their names. Cannon Fodder.

The tiny girl from district 6 is similar, her dark eyes full of fear as she's halfheartedly comforted by one of their victors (a skeleton of a woman, probably drugged out of her mind). Her name is Eden, and she won't last long. But the boy is medium height and looks strong. His hair is a mousy brown and sticks up in the back, and his brown eyes flash anger as he stands on the stage. I miss his name, but see that Prim has written "Aaron."

District 7, the lumber district, produces two larger kids, including a girl (Josie) who stomps to the stage, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder, and Mark, who rolls his eyes at her, even as his hands clench and shake at his sides.

As we expect, Cecelia's daughter is reaped in District 8. She holds her head high, but she's tiny and it's clear she doesn't expect to win. She's a spitting image of Cecelia, a motherly victor with light blue eyes and light brown hair. Cecelia hugs Daphne as she steps onto the stage, and the two stare defiantly at the cameras. The whole town looks furious. They rush through the male reaping (a boy named Anistair) and avoid showing any of the district beyond the square. Gale and I glance at each other, knowing what happened just a few weeks ago.

District 9 involves more crying children. A girl named "Sunnie" sobs loudly and hides behind her dark hands, while her partner (Gregory) has to be drug onto the stage by the peacekeepers. Two more F's on Prim's sheet.

In District 10, they remark that the tributes (Joshua and Jaimie Dennis) are cousins, and that the "odds are not in that family's favor." I find myself wondering what their family has done. They both have large dark eyes and average build. Joshua puts a comforting hand on his cousin's shoulder.

When they get to District 11, the image of Rue, one of last year's tributes, flashes into my consciousness. She would have been 13 this year, and even though she was tiny, she would have had a shot, flitting from tree to tree. My mind holds the image of Peeta trying to free her from a trap, wrestling the District 1 boy to the ground as Rue bled out, stabbing him with his own knife to protect the doomed girl. I breathe deeply and return to the present, where they call another tiny girl with dark skin and hair (Astrid) and a taller boy named Jed. Both look terrified, but hold back their tears.

We finally settle on District 12. Peeta's face flashes in the corner of the screen while the announcers discuss whether back-to-back victories are possible for an outlying district. It's been done before. They show a chart: most recently, Gloss and Cashmere from 1 won the 62nd and 63rd games, and six years before that, there were back –to-back victories from Two. Two has accomplished this a total of three times throughout the years. The only other back-to-back victory was from District Three, Beetee and Wiress, almost 35 years ago. "The odds are not in District Twelve's favor this year" declares Claudius Templesmith. The vein in Gale's neck is back.

We watch as Lark sobs onstage and Peeta comforts her, and as Rory stands angrily next to her.

"At least he's not crying." Gale mutters. Prim and I nod in agreement, and she turns off the TV. We don't need to see the gamblers' odds, and don't want to hear speculation about who will die first.

"He's one of the biggest" states Prim from her couch. "And I doubt the careers have as much training as normal this year."

"The odds look good." Gale agrees, looking over her list. The two of them seem to be perking up.

Vick runs up the stairs. "Mom says it's time to go. We have school and you have work tomorrow." Gale looks like he's going to vomit, but nods and hugs Prim and I together.

"There's nothing to watch during the day for the next week anyway. I'd be better off if I kept busy." He follows Vick down the stairs.

We can hear my mom cleaning up in the shop as Prim joins me on the couch, snuggling next to me. We just sit there, and I breathe her in; the light scent of lavender from her soap and the spices from the bread. My sister is here. She's alive and safe.

Eventually we head to sleep, and she snuggles in with me in my bed, just like when she was little. "I don't want to be alone" she says softly as she joins me. I don't either.

We fall asleep holding one another as we hear the murmur of our mother and one of the Mellarks talking quietly in the back alley. My nightmares grow. Along with the image of my father blowing up, Gale turning to dust, now I see Rory dying 100 horrible ways. A sword through the stomach like Violet...killed by mutts that look like evil geese...falling from a cliff...


	12. Before The Games

**A/N: Two long updates in the next few days. You're welcome. :) Follow/fav and review!**

* * *

Morning comes and we walk quietly toward school. Delly hugs Prim tightly as she joins us, and Madge squeezes my hand as we enter first period. I watch through the window as Prim's friends flock around her, a flurry of ribbons and comforting voices. She's probably better off at school, where people will keep her mind busy and comfort her.

I, on the other hand, can't concentrate on any of our lessons. Gale's right; there's nothing to watch or see during the day for awhile. I hate the feeling of not knowing what's going on; not being able to do anything. There will be mandatory viewings tonight, Sunday and Monday for the tribute parade, training scores and interviews. Next Tuesday the gong will sound at 10am, and the games will begin. I doodle in my notebook all day, missing the comfort of Gale.

_Snap out of it, Katniss. You're supposed to be comforting him, not craving affection. This is not the time..._ I mentally reinforce my walls. _You can have friends. Nothing more. No boyfriend. No marriage. No kids. _I picture Gale chasing Posy and Vick through the store. _Not with him. Not with anyone._ I think of my mother, immobile with grief after my father's death. _It's too dangerous. Too much risk. _I think of the warmth of Gale's arms...the bell rings. I'm not sure of anything anymore.

That night, the town piles into the square to view the tribute parade. Madge and I chat on the porch of the apothecary, and Gale flops down on the step, bags under his eyes.

My heart thumps in my chest. _Not now, not now, not now._

The Mellarks come out to their porch as well, Bannock and Nick sitting on the steps, teasing one another.

"Hey Madge!" says Nick brightly. "Did you ever finish that History homework?" Nick is a year ahead of us, but has to retake Panem History this year. He failed while his brother was in the Games.

She blushes. "Yeah, thanks for the help." He smiles broadly as the screens light up.

Last year, District 12 had been the stars of the parade. They had somehow lit Peeta and Violet on fire. By the time the interviews rolled around, everyone knew their names. I hadn't watched Peeta's interview (I'd spent it curled up under a bench behind Madge's house), but I heard he did wonderfully. After he won, they showed replays of him joking with Caesar and talking about different types of breads. Hopefully this year's costumes will garner just as much positive attention.

We watch as the tributes come out in pairs, standing in horse-drawn carriages. Obviously some of the stylists have taken a page from 12, and many of the tributes are lit up this year. Some of the tributes are still openly crying as the parade goes by. District 12 pulls out of the tunnel, again lit up.

I have to admire what the stylists have done. Little Lark, looking frightened, is the picture of innocence and youth. Her dress lights up like firelight, and is fashioned to make her look younger than her age, her hair in pigtails. A risky move...almost a statement about the Capitol's child sacrifice, as if she is a candle which can be blown out with the slightest breeze. But Rory...the stylists must have met him before they chose his outfit. He glowers angrily as his clothes glow like coal embers. Rory stares straight ahead, stiff and unmoving. As Lark looks young and innocent, Rory looks older, angrier, ready to fight. He reminds me so much of Gale that my breath catches for a moment, and I have to remind myself which Hawthorne is going into the arena.

"They'll remember him." Gale mutters under his breath. "But he's setting himself up as the one to beat." In the past, districts One and Two (the careers) have targeted any tribute who seems to challenge their authority. We don't want that to be Rory. But with younger kids this year, maybe they won't take that tactic.

We're forced to watch the president speak, and the announcers analyze the tributes. Rory's name comes up more than once.

"Hey Hawthorne!" Nick Mellark yells from next door. "Your brother's got a decent shot there."

Gale's face has the same look at Rory's during the parade, steely and stiff. He stares at the ground, ignoring Nick.

"Peeta will help him through the interview. He'll get sponsors. He'll come home."

Gale continues to ignore him.

Then Nick mutters, "well, my brother can certainly teach him more about getting along with people than you can teach him."

Gale stands and storms toward the bakery porch, standing toe-to-toe with Nick. "Don't talk about my brother, and I won't talk about yours. In fact, just don't talk about anyone." Gale's voice is full of rage.

Nick looks confused, then angry. "Fine. But I can't keep my brother from talking about whatever girl he wants." He looks at me pointedly.

Greasy Sae, watching from the porch of the restaurant overhears what's happening and steps in. "Pumpernickel Mellark! Learn when to leave well enough alone!"

Madge giggles behind me, and I store _that_ bit of information in the back of my mind. Pumpernickel.

Distracted by Sae, I don't notice Gale's hands curl into fists. But I do notice when he punches Nick Mellark directly in the nose, and the blood running everywhere.

I grab him by the arm. "Gale! He was trying to help, say that Rory has a chance!" Bannock and Sae are holding onto Nick, keeping him from counterattack as he struggles to return Gale's punch.

"I'll get Lily and Hazelle" Madge says, turning to find our families. I jerk Gale into the apothecary. He's breathing hard.

"What was that about?"

"I told you before, Nick Mellark is a jerk. He can't stop rubbing Peeta's crush on you in my face."

I don't have the faintest idea of how to respond to that.

My mom and Hazelle walk into the room, Bannock and a still-bleeding Nick behind them. Hazelle's eyes flash with anger when she sees Gale. She grabs him by the arm. "Home, now." Her voice is low and angry as she leads him out the back door. "Lily, I asked Prim to bring the kids home. She should be back in a few minutes."

My mother nods, and proceeds to begin patching Nick up as Gale slams the door shut. "You'll probably have a black eye, but it's not broken." She pours some herbs into a mug of hot water. "This will reduce the swelling."

"No thanks to _her_ boyfriend." He gestures toward me.

My voice fails me as I whisper "He's not..." I turn and storm up the stairs.

* * *

The next morning, well before the time we usually leave for school, Madge knocks timidly on our back door. Luckily, I'm down in the apothecary, putting away the order. She comes in to help me.

"Sorry about Nick." She pauses, giggling, and corrects herself. "Pumpernickel." We both laugh. "I think he feels like he needs to stand up for Peeta. I told him to leave Gale alone."

"So what's going on there, anyway?" I say as she grabs a box of soap and puts it on the shelf.

"Um..." She blushes again. "We hung out over at Peeta's a couple of times. He walked me home. He's really nice if you get to know him, he just tries too hard to be funny. And Gale doesn't do funny."

I wipe my hands on a towel. "Well, this isn't the right time."

"I know. I talked to him last night. His nose will be fine. How's Gale?"

"I don't know. His mom drug him home. Literally."

Madge looks concerned. "He has such a temper, and he's always challenging people. That's why people worry about him so much."

"Mmhmmm" I say absently as I count out some pills.

"We were hoping that you'd calm him down a little." She notices the blush creeping into my face. "Katniss, stop denying this. It's not fair to him, you, or Peeta."

"Peeta? What does he have to do with Gale and I?" My face is getting warmer. There is no _Gale and I _beyond friendship and hunting partners. But why do those words make my heart beat a little faster?

"If you and Gale would just, you know...If you got together, he'd have to get past it and move on."

"You really think he would?"

"Nick says that Peeta is a realist, Katniss. If he knows you're off limits, he'll stop pining after you all the time."

"He doesn't _pine_, Madge."

"Well whatever it is, just put him out of his misery."

We collapse the empty boxes and walk outside to put them by the garbage. Lady bleats from her pen, and we walk quietly to school. I again find myself distracted by thoughts of Gale all day, and by the time the bell rings, I've chewed the eraser off of my pencil.

* * *

There's no mandatory viewing the next two days, so I head to the woods after school to hunt and think. I'm no closer to figuring out the Gale situation, but I do feel his absence acutely. I miss having him with me in the woods, helping to hunt and gather. Instead, he's stuck down in the mines, risking his life to care for his family.

On Saturday, I get home from hunting just before the training scores are released. Prim is working on the balcony off of my mom's room, tending to the herbs she grows up there. She's planted a few vegetables in the yard, too, and is trimming basil to go with the pile of early tomatoes on the kitchen counter.

"Mom says that Gale has to stay inside the house tonight during the scores." She looks at me accusingly. "Mrs. Hawthorne says she can't trust him to avoid another fight."

"I had nothing to do with it."

"I know, but you can keep him under control. Just stay with him, Katniss. He gets so angry when he's upset...he needs you to stay with him."

I think of the promise I made to him in the woods. I repeat it softly to Prim. "The whole time."

My mom is in the apothecary when Hazelle drops Gale off, and she sends him upstairs.  
"I don't need a babysitter" he says angrily as he sits on the loveseat.

"Apparently your mom thinks you do. And Prim."

He sighs and stretches his legs in front of him. "Where is she? How's she doing?"

"She's doing better. She's strong. She went out to be with her friends."

"Your mom promised to help my mom with the kids tonight." He looks at his hands.

"So it's just us?" I stand awkwardly across the room, glancing at the big empty couch, and the loveseat, half filled with Gale. He stares at the empty couch as well, probably remembering how Rory and Prim sat there during the Quarter Quell announcement. He pats the cushion next to him, inviting me to join him. _His brother will be on that screen tonight _I remind myself as the image of him crying in the woods flashes into my consciousness. I sit somewhat stiffly next to him.

"I thought we were past this, Catnip." He puts an arm around my shoulder, and I lean into his side, willing myself to relax.

_I've missed this_. The thought brings a blush to my cheeks, but I hold my ground and stay snuggled next to him in spite of the urge to run, the conversation in the woods after my last reaping plays in my mind.

_"I'm not asking you to get married. I just hoped you'd kiss me back."_ And I realize that if he kissed me now, I _would_ kiss him back. But I've slammed that door over and over, sometimes right in his face. And I'm not sure I can open it back up.

We watch the scores without speaking. The scores are on a scale from 1 to 12, with one being the worst and 12 the best. 12s are unheard of, 11s are rare, and 10s are usually reserved for career tributes. Most of District 12's tributes get 3s and 4s. Peeta had gotten an 8 last year.

They open with the scores from District 1. They each pull a 9, surprising at their ages. District 2 produces an 8 (for Pepper) and a 9 (Geo must have impressed them with something). Poor Greta has a 2, but her District 3 partner, Tech, gets a 7. High for their district.

High all around; are the gamemakers giving these kids extra points to distract us from their ages?

District Four's Felicity gets a 6, and Shawn gets an 8. Definitely inflating the scores. The kids from District Five get a 3 and a 4, and Eden from District Six gets another 3. Aaron pulls a 7. From District Seven, the tall, angry girl gets a 9, and Mark gets another 7. Cecelia's daughter, from District Eight, Daphne, scores a 6, and her district partner a 4. From Nine, each tribute gets a 2, and I picture little Sunnie, burying her head in her hands. The cousins from District Ten score a 5 and a 6. District Eleven's tributes get a 3 (Astrid) and a 5 (Jed). District Twelve's tributes' pictures appear on the screen, and Gale hugs me tighter.

Rory gets a 10. Lark only gets a 2.

"He could have shown them more, gotten 2 more points" Gale mutters, but there's pride in his voice. Rory is at the top of the score chart, and he's made himself known to sponsors. He's also, once again, made himself a target.

The announcers discuss the scores, and visually sort the contestants' pictures into groupings. The kids with 2s, 3s, and 4s are mostly tiny, prepubescent and scared. There are 9 of them, more than a third of the field. Kids with little to no chance.

The 5s and 6s, of which there are 5, are not terribly surprising, but probably would have garnered scores of 3 or 4 in a normal year.

Ten kids have scored a 7 or above this year. In an average pool of tributes, this would be normal (if not a little high), but these kids are all 13. The scores have to be inflated. But these are Rory's biggest competition. The kids with 7s (Aaron, Mark and Tech) probably would have been lower on the list in previous years. But the 8s and 9s (and Rory's 10) may be a real threat. I name them in my head. Rory, Josie, Shawn, Geo, Pepper, Spectacular and Satin. All 13 years old. All but one will be dead within a couple of weeks.

The announcers on the screen agree with my analysis, but also warn us to look out for "this year's Johanna Mason." They show a shot of the District Seven victor from a few years ago, as she sobs on stage during her interview, and contrast it with the video of her beheading a fellow tribute only a few days later.

Gale and I stay embraced on the loveseat, discussing the scores and what they mean for Rory until Prim comes up and tells Gale to go downstairs and meet his mom. She doesn't mention our physical closeness, even after he walks down the stairs, telling me he'll meet to hunt tomorrow. Instead, she lies down on the bigger couch, notebook still clutched in her hands. She hasn't cried tonight, but she covers her eyes briefly, then rolls to her side and looks at me.

"He's going to win." She's determined. Then her face falls a little. "Lark is going to die. She's in my year. We have gym together...but she has to die, Katniss. So Rory can come home." Her face is hard, but there are tears in the corners.

"I'm sorry, Prim."

"This is why they do it, isn't it? The Capitol? So we hate each other instead of them." She's perceptive for 13.

I nod, not trusting anything that could come out of my mouth, especially if we don't know whether the Capitol is listening. We go to bed.

* * *

Sunday morning Gale and I meet at our usual spot and do our usual Sunday routine. We walk the snare line and I manage to shoot a raccoon and 2 squirrels. He's got a several rabbits and 2 more squirrels as we head back to the Hob.

"Save a rabbit for Darius" I instruct him.

He nods. "I figured he'd look the other way. You can go to the interviews if you want. I just thoughts you'd want a choice."

I don't particularly want to go to the interviews. When we reach the fence, he stops me and puts his hands on my shoulders, just below the straps of my tank top. My bare skin tingles under his touch.

"Are you..." he looks hard into my eyes. "Do you feel bad for me?"

"What?!"

"Do you feel bad for me? Because my brother's in the games?"

"Well, I feel bad about it, yes, but I don't _pity_ you."

"I don't want you spending time with me just because you feel bad for me."

"Ok..." I'm confused and trying to imagine what he's talking about.

He sees my confusion. "It's the look on your face when you sat down with me last night. I don't want you being affectionate toward me just because you're worried about Rory."

"I won't" I say, and the words come out with just a tinge of sarcasm. Gale scowls. I always say the wrong thing.

"What do you want?" he asks. We both know he's not asking about the meat we've picked up today, or our plans for tonight's viewing. He's asking about himself.

"I don't know." My voice is faint and I can't meet his gaze.

"I guess that's better than no." He mutters it bitterly and ducks under the fence.

That night, Posy and Prim join us above the apothecary for the interviews. Posy snuggles between Gale and I on the loveseat, and Prim perches on a chair she's drug in from the breakfast nook. The empty couch screams at us from the other side of the room. Our mothers and Vick are downstairs in the store, watching on the tiny TV we brought from the seam.

Caesar is his usual jovial self, working overtime tonight as he coaxes terrified children out of their shells. The District One and Two kids do well, answering his questions confidently and aggressively. But I see something akin to fear behind the eyes of the District One girl. She expected to have more time before she was thrown into the arena.

The first District 3 girl stumbles through her interview. Her partner, however, (Tech) is jovial and friendly. He talks openly about his life at home, studying in an elite program for technology. He enjoys flatbread sandwiches and shares a room with his brother. The audience loves him.

"Make any friends here in the Capitol?" Caesar asks a question I've heard before, to which most tributes respond negatively. Making friends is a liability in the arena. You have to kill them.

"I've made a few!" Tech is enthusiastic. "Shawn, Felicity, Rory and I got to be friends during training." He continues on, joking about some sort of mishap with a barbell during training.

Great, Rory's made a friend. A friend he may have to kill. Gale looks annoyed.

"Gale! Rory has a friend! He won't be sad!" Posy is wiggling with excitement. She glances over at Prim. "Don't worry Prim, he still loves you best." Prim smiles at the innocent girl's words.

The female District Five tribute cries through the interview, but speaks haltingly about missing her older sister. Her district partner manages to hold back his tears, and croaks about how much he likes their stylists.

Once it gets to District Six, the Capitol audience seems restless. It's clear that they greatly prefer the fierce competitors and trained killers seen in the normal crop of tributes. Scared and crying children are not good entertainment. Eden, the girl from District Six, continues the streak of nearly despondent youth. Her district partner, Aaron, on the other hand gets a warmer response when he comes across as angry and states that he'll do "whatever it takes" to get home.

Posy falls asleep sometime during the District Six interviews, and Gale carries her gently to Prim's bed, then comes back and joins me on the couch, his arm around me. Prim gives me an amused look, and I stick out my tongue, laying my head on Gale's shoulder.

Josie, the large girl from District 7, stomps onto the stage. She tries to play herself as confident and boasts that she "can outhrow Johanna." Mark plays sarcastic, but his hands visibly shake and he hesitates when Caesar asks him how many kills he thinks he'll have. He doesn't have the courage to kill.

"The odds really aren't in your family's favor, are they?" Caesar begins when Cecelia's daughter joins him on stage. Daphne stares at him evenly and waits for the next question. They show her mother, sitting in the audience, her face void of emotion.

Her district partner is unremarkable, and Prim begins to get restless across the room. She goes to the kitchen and returns with her notebook to begin jotting notes. We pretend not to notice as she curls up on the couch where she and Rory sat.

The District Nine tributes are calm but unsure of themselves. Sunnie, the little girl, tells a story about the flowers she planted in front of her house. "They won't bloom until after..." her voice fades away and the buzzer sounds.

The cousins from District Ten are both quiet, but speak highly and defiantly of their grandfather. I get the impression that he is a leader in the district, probably a rebel, and probably the reason they're here today. They don't cry, but they don't smile either.

Astrid, the small girl from District 11, is surprisingly confident. She talks about Rue, who was her friend in the orchards. "We're not so different, her and I." And she flits back to her seat. Jed mumbles a lot once he gets to the stage, and says nothing of substance.

District 12 is up next. As Lark makes her way to the stage, I get a glimpse of Rory, slouched in his chair, still looking furious. He glances at the camera, then off to the side, and straightens up. Lark walks to the stage. She is sweet and kind, and speaks fondly of Lorna, the woman who runs the community home. She's beautiful and young in her gingham dress, her hair curled simply. Prim's eyes are wet, and I hear her whisper, "she has to die for Rory to come home."

The buzzer sounds again, and Rory walks to the front of the stage, looking older than 13 in his suit. It has steel gray buttons and a gray tie, intensifying his eyes. He's handsome, and I find my mind wondering what Gale would look like in an outfit like that.

_Snap out of it, Katniss. Not now. Not now. _

Gale's arms tighten around me and he pulls me into his lap. "Prim, do you want to come sit with us?" He's noticed that she looks small and sad alone on the big couch. She nods and settles in next to us, laying her head on me.

She quietly says, "I hope Peeta trained him. He's just going to glare and argue with Caesar if no one told him what to do." Gale and I laugh and agree with her. _C'mon, Peeta. C'mon Rory._

Caesar Begins, "Rory Hawthorne, welcome. Don't you look dashing tonight?"

Rory swallows hard and glances toward Peeta in the audience. "Thank you, Caesar. And Thank you to Portia, my stylist." He smiles a little. Gracious. The audience applauds. Hearing Rory's voice from the TV makes all of this more real, and I have to close my eyes for a moment to collect my emotions.

"So, Rory, tell us a little about District Twelve! Who is watching out there tonight?"

He relaxes a little and breathes deeply. "Well, my dad died a few years ago, so I live with my mom. I have two brothers and a sister. Posy's five, and she probably fell asleep waiting to see me tonight."

A few people in the audience chuckle.

"I also have good friends. Prim is..." his voice catches for a moment, but he recovers. "...my best friend. And I promised her I'd try my best to come back."

She gives a small sob beside me.

Caesar continues. "And how do you plan to do that, Rory? You got the highest training score out of everyone!"

Rory smiles. "I can't tell you that, Caesar. You'll have to watch me in the arena. And my sponsors will have to take care of me long enough to see what I can really do. But I will tell you that I'm prepared to take out anyone who gets in my way."

This is going better than expected. I had expected a sullen, angry Rory, but somehow he is somewhat personable, yet still tough. He and Peeta must have worked hard on his presentation. Thank goodness. They chatter on for a few more minutes, talking about his burgeoning friendship with Tech. Then Caesar asks one last question.

"Rory. Do you have anything else to say to the people of the Capitol as they watch your games?"

Rory tenses on stage. I see the angry glint in his eye before he even opens his mouth. "I'd tell them to –" he pauses, and looks in Peeta's direction. Breathes a few times. And settles back in the chair. "I'd tell them to enjoy what they have, because nothing lasts forever." The buzzer sounds and he returns to his seat.

Caesar dismisses the tributes and the announcers begin talking about new odds based on the interviews. I lay my head back on Gale's shoulder.

"He did it"

"Yeah..." Gale agrees. "That ending though...might give him trouble if they figure out what he really means."

"Hopefully they're too full of themselves to make sense of it." Prim surprises us both with her perception of the situation.

We sit for a few more minutes, then Gale places me on the floor. "I should get Posy home. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

We nod and say our goodnights.


	13. Quarter Quell: Part 1

The next morning, I mind the shop until mandatory viewing begins. The closer we get to the countdown, the more my heart is in my throat. Rory could be dead by this evening. Pressure keeps building behind my eyes, and I mash the back of my hands against them to keep from crying. Prim had been pacing all night, and had finally fallen into a fitful sleep, and my mother is running errands around the square. At about 15 minutes before shop closing time, my mom rushes in with the bookkeeping and a handful of bandages, taking them to the tiny office behind the counter.

"Katniss, any emergencies while I was gone?"

"Nope, it's been quiet. Most people are sleeping in today." One of the advantages of the first day of the hunger games is that they don't start until 12. We get the entire day off of school and the mines, so people make the most of the morning hours for some much-needed rest.

"Good. Hazelle and the kids are going to watch from the square, but I've told them they can come into our house if..." she trails off. I can complete her sentence. If the worst happens. "Gale is free to join them or stay here. Same for you."

"You don't need me to babysit a grown man anymore?"

She shoots back "If he hadn't acted like a child, he wouldn't need anyone to keep an eye on him. But Hazelle thinks he's learned his lesson. Personally, I think we should keep him away from the bakery."

"I don't think he wants to be out there anyway, while it's happening. Too many people might see." I haven't seen Gale get emotional since just after the reaping, but I know he doesn't like _anyone_ to see any of his emotions. He's unlikely to want to be in a crowd if there's a chance that he could break down. Or if there's a chance that something could happen that would make him break down. Really, Gale just doesn't like crowds, one of the many things we have in common.

As I say this, Gale walks through the door. "Mrs. Everdeen, my mom is over by the fabric store with some other miners' wives. She said you should join her. My mom nods and closes the register. "I think we're done anyway."

We're still standing silently in the store when Prim flies down the stairs, braiding her hair as she goes. "I'm going to watch in the square with Emily. Mr. Mellark promised us cookies!" She looks tired, but like she's handling things better than last night.

So it's the two of us again. We climb the stairs and I'm feeling more nervous by the second. Gale's eyes are distant as he sits down on the loveseat, forearms resting on his legs. "He might not make it..." I'm not sure if Gale is talking to me, himself, or no one in particular. I perch on the armrest and rub his back. I'm pretty sure Gale didn't sleep at all last night. I don't blame him.

On-screen, the announcers begin to introduce each of the tributes, sharing their pictures, scores and clips from their interview. When they get to Rory, they show him saying, "I'm prepared to take out anyone who gets in my way" in his suit with the steel gray buttons. His eyes are determined by angry.

The tributes are lifted up into the arena. Stripped of their makeup and costumes, they all look childish and terrified, even the kids from 1 and 2. A few are crying as they rise into the arena.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 75th Hunger Games begin!"

As Claudius counts down from 60, the gamemakers give us a birds' eye view of the arena. In the center of a large body of water is a small island containing the cornucopia. I can see packs of supplies and weapons piled up all around it. Twelve narrow spokes of land jut from the center island, and two tributes are on launch pads between each spoke. Beyond the water is a beach, and beyond _that_ is a forest of some kind ("jungle" the announcer calls it).

I'm thankful that we taught Rory how to swim.

As the camera circles, I look for Rory. There he is, across from the mouth of the cornucopia. An ideal position. He looks determined, and points his feet toward the center island. To his right is Tech, from 3, and they nod to one another. To his left is the District 11 girl, Astrid. She's staring at the water, horrified. Lark is about 6 spaces to Rory's right, with the same look of terror on her face.

The gong sounds. During most hunger games, there is a mad dash toward and away from the cornucopia, and the deaths begin instantly. This time, only 7 of the 24 tributes jump from their pedestals, and the rest are frozen in place. The kids from 1 and 2 splash into the water, meeting up at the side of the cornucopia. The pair from 4 dive in and swim (completely underwater) around to the other side.

And Rory. He's not as confident, not as graceful, but he quickly makes his way to the opening of the cornucopia, beating the careers. He grabs a pack, bow and arrows, and a handful of knives, then runs to the side to meet up with Felicity and Shawn from 4. Tech has finally made his way through the water, and joins with them.

"Get out of there, Rory..." Gale mutters at the TV.

There are still 10 kids just standing on their pedestals. A few have started making their way toward the jungle, avoiding the bloodbath. More are just dog-paddling slowly toward the cornucopia. A couple have figured out that they can walk on the little spokes of land, and are splashing toward those.

The careers have grabbed some weapons (swords, spears and knives) and huddled on their side of the cornucopia, gesturing to the kids still on the pedestals, then at the jungle around them. Why aren't they attacking? Usually the careers attack as swiftly as possible, taking out as many as they can before the other tributes scatter. The TV screen splits into two. On one side, they show the careers conversation, an argument about whether to pick off the weaker people, or track down the stronger first. On the other, Tech and Shawn (who have grabbed more weapons and a pack each) are discussing which way they should go into the jungle. Rory and Felicity keep watch, their own packs secure on their backs. The two groups are completely unaware of each others' presence.

"He took allies." Gale's head is in his hands. "He was supposed to run. Stay alone. Survive."

The careers decide to walk around the cornucopia, pick off anyone on the island, then move onto the kids swimming fruitlessly in the water.

"No!" I yell. "Run! Rory!" as they make their way around the island. They sneak around the tail, slowing down as they hear Tech and Shawn talk. Slowly, slowly the girl from 2 creeps up behind the unaware Felicity.

And slits her throat. The first death of the games, fifteen minutes after the gong.

Shawn and Tech are frozen, stunned, but Rory responds immediately. He strings an arrow before Felicity's body hits the ground, and sends it flying through Pepper's neck. "Run! That way!" He gestures toward the nearest jungle, and the three boys (Rory, Tech and Shawn) dive into the water and swim for the jungle.

Gale's jaw is slack, eyes unblinking. "He killed her." His voice is a mixture of awe and horror.

The careers re-group, eyes wide. Their youth is apparent. They can't feign the detachment the older kids exhibit in other years. The boy from 2 kneels next to Pepper's body, visibly shaking. "She's gone...we need another plan." As he says this, Daphne, Cecelia's daughter, dog paddles up to the island, out of breath.

"Sorry" she pants. "I can't swim well." The boys pull her from the water, and point toward Pepper. Daphne's eyes widen. "I'm still with you."

Meanwhile, the cousins from 10 have found each other and run into the jungle. The pair from 7 and Aaron from 6 have gathered on the beach, forming an alliance, on the opposite side of the arena from Rory.

The careers decide to have Daphne guard the cornucopia while the other three go mow down any tributes left on their pedestals. I watch as they do it quickly, grabbing and slitting the throats of 4 kids in close succession. The girl from District 1 vomits after her first kill. Little Micah drowns, clearly unable to swim. Lark and the girl from 11 make it to the island, and Daphne closes her eyes, apologizes, and stabs each with a spear. District 12 has already lost a tribute.

At some point, I sit down on the big couch, hugging a pillow to my chest.

Two hours, 9 kids dead, one by Rory's hand. The gamemakers show him and his allies as they make their way up through the jungle, stopping to re-group about ½ mile up the hill. They empty their packs (and Felicity's, which Tech had the good sense to grab). Among the 4 packs, they have 6 bottles of water, several packs of crackers and beef (in waterproof bags), 2 first aid kits, 2 tarps, some twine, Rory's bow, 2 swords, 6 knives, and a bag of apples. Not bad for 3 boys. They've made out better than everyone but the careers.

Back at the cornucopia, the only people left standing are the careers, and the cannons begin booming. Rory counts under his breath: Nine. Nine kids are dead. He whispers to Shawn "Fifteen to go. We'll be here awhile." The boys decide to set up camp.

Gale has been pacing since Rory killed the girl from district 2, unable to sit still. I can see why he doesn't want to be outside, but he's making me crazy.

"Sit down. Pacing won't help at all." He looks at me, then at the TV. Rory's crew has rigged the tarps to create a sunshade. The careers are sorting supplies at the cornucopia, Daphne keeping watch on top, and the other tributes are scattered throughout the arena. Some have settled in to wait while others wander aimlessly.

"Let's take a walk, Catnip. I want to see my mom."

The mood outside is somewhere halfway between a funeral and a party. The Mellarks are handing out bread (my mom is helping), and people chat in small groups. We'll be stuck here until dinner. Gale spots his mom and they begin talking quietly about Rory's position.

Madge sidles up beside me, a smile on her face. "He's got good chances. I saw some numbers...Peeta and Haymitch have plenty of funds for him. It looks good." She links my arm and we watch together.

I eventually slip back to my house, and Gale doesn't return. I again find myself missing him. I sigh as I look at the TV, devoid of much action for now. What's happening to me? I spent 16 years pushing everyone but Prim away. Gale got in, but mostly on the basis of his hunting skills. Then Madge, Peeta and Rory all somehow got past my defenses. But these feelings for Gale...do I like the closeness, or do I like _him_? I think of his question in the woods and wonder if I'm just having these feelings because he's hurting.

* * *

During the hunger games we still have to go to school. We can glimpse the TV during lunch and free periods, and if something major is happening with someone from our district, they'll turn on all the TVs and have us watch live. The same goes in the mines. I chew on my pencil during math, and wonder if Gale can concentrate at all. The TVs stay off. Rory is safe.

When I get home, I'm hoping to catch a summary on the TV before I go to the woods, but I'm stopped in my tracks when I find Gale sitting at the table in the apothecary, talking with my mom.

"Rory! Is he OK?" I can't think of any other reason Gale would be dismissed from the mines. My heart is beating out of my chest.

"Nice to see you, too, Catnip." He grins. Rory is fine. "Nothing major happened, but they did have to run...it will be on the recap. Do you want to take a walk to the woods before mandatory viewing?"

I run up to change my clothes and grab my game bag, then back down and out the back door with Gale. Once we're in the woods, he starts.

"The mining supervisor says I'm too distracted. It's not safe. So I've been dismissed until the games are over." He smiles.

"But Gale, what about your family?" I mentally calculate how much he'd need to hunt, how much I'd need to do to keep his family fed for the next 2 or 3 weeks. I begin to panic, envisioning Posy, gaunt and hungry.

He smiles again. He must be losing his mind. I know he hates the mines, but to replace his scowl with such cheerfulness, in a moment when his brother could very well be dying...

"The other miners took up a collection. I guess they do it whenever a miner has a family member in the games. It's not safe to have someone down there distracted." He shows me an envelope. Inside are a month's worth of mining wages. I recognize the handwriting on the outside. It's Peeta's. Gale continues, "I'll still hunt during the day and help my mom around the house."

I settle down on the rock outcropping where we usually meet, and he sits next to me. "I'm glad you're not going down there for awhile" I offer, not sure what else to say. He can't know that Peeta is behind this, he'll never accept it. "So does that mean we can hunt every day?"

"Every day, Catnip."

That night, after we've traded our haul for the day, we settle into the love seat to watch the evening's recap. Gale leans back, pulling me to his chest as the TV turns on. "He's fine, remember that" he whispers in my ear. I have flutters in my stomach as his breath tickles past my neck, and I unsuccessfully try to push my emotions down.

The recap starts off with a review of yesterday's deaths, all of which were at the cornucopia. Then it shows a replay of last night, each of the groups sleeping soundly. The careers are at the cornucopia (they have found a bottle of some sort of sun block, and are all painted white, so they glow eerily in the darkness). The 6/7 alliance is huddled in the forest, having finished their sponsor-provided water, and the nuts they've gathered. And Rory's alliance is under their tarps. The other kids are scattered in the forest. Some are crying softly.

Bong. Bong. A gong rings out 12 times, and the caption states that it's 12 midnight. Lightning strikes a tree in an uninhabited corner of the arena. Most of the kids bolt upright. A very thirsty Coco (apparently District 5 doesn't have many sponsors this year) begins making her way over, hoping for a rainstorm. At 1am, the rain begins around her. She opens her mouth to the sky, only to discover that it's blood. She runs and vomits and runs some more...right into the path of the 6/7 alliance. The boy from 6 kills her with his knife, and they head back toward the area where the lightning struck. Rory's crew hears the cannon, but goes back to sleep, Tech on watch.

According to the captions, it's 6am when they're awakened by a roar.

A giant beast with bat wings, claws, and a large beak begins tracking them through the forest. All they can grab is their packs; the tarps they've been using are lost in the chaos. They run from the sound, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp claws. The boys are screaming, and Rory attempts to shoot a few arrows, but misses widely in his panic. I tense as I realize that they can't run much further, and this muttation is going to catch them. I can't breathe.

"Remember, they're fine" Gale assures me in my ear, sensing my panic.

Suddenly, the beast stops, and turns to go the other way. It's as if the creature completely forgot what it was doing. There are no other tributes in the area. After running a bit further, the boys cautiously sit down to rest. Eventually they eat a meal of cold soup and salad provided by their mentors.

"Why did that happen?" I ask out loud. "Why did it just give up?"

Gale guesses "maybe they just don't want to kill everyone so quickly?"

It's odd. We continue watching. At 11am, a swarm of insects (which look like a praying mantis I once found next to my doorway in the seam) descend upon Joshua and Jaimie, the pair from 10. They eat every ounce of flesh from their bones, leaving gaping skulls.

"Wonder what their family did..." Gale trails off, leaving the rest unsaid. We're down to 12 tributes. Rory is halfway home, and we're less than 36 hours into the games.

At 2pm, the blood rain starts again, this time on the 6/7 alliance. They scream, abandoning the packs their mentors have sent. Then they run downhill, toward the beach, brownish red with blood.

The careers spot them quickly, and dive into the water to come after them, leaving Daphne to guard the cornucopia island. The other careers have been ordering her around for the entire games so far. I'm pretty sure they're just allowing her to stay with them so they have an overnight guard.

The 6/7 alliance doesn't hear the careers at first. They're in the water, trying desperately to scrub the blood from their skin. The boy from 7 is crying and vomiting. Suddenly Josie senses the shift in the water and screams, her voice cutting through the jungle.

Rory and his alliance creep closer to the beach to watch the attack.

Josie turns out to be a fast runner, and she's alerted her district partner to the tributes headed their way. They run into the jungle, toward the area where lightning has now struck twice. Aaron is not as fast. He struggles to get away, and Spectacular (the other tributes call him "Speck") grabs his arm. Aaron backs his elbow into Speck's stomach, and grabs a knife off of his belt. They back away from one another, Aaron with a knife, Speck now holding only a spear. Satin bursts out of the water, also holding a knife. Aaron is quick, and stabs into her stomach, watching her keel over onto the sand, unable to retrieve his knife. That's when Speck stabs forward, impaling Aaron on the spear. Two cannons sound.

We're down to 10, only 2 days into the games. Rory and his friends disappear back into the jungle before they're noticed, and the pair from 7 stumble through the jungle, having lost their bearings. The careers swim back to the island to regroup and re-apply their sun block.

* * *

For the next few days, we follow this pattern. I head to school, and Gale meets me as soon as I'm done. We get in an hour or so of hunting, then watch the recaps together, curled up on the loveseat. Many of the tributes run into muttations, and twice a day an entire section of the arena is flooded by a huge wave. But it feels like the gamemakers are holding back.

"Can't have it be over too quickly. Gotta entertain the Capitol" Gale mutters one night as we watch little Greta run away from screaming Jabberjays. Rory and his allies have become chummy. Tech teases both Rory and Shawn. Rory is by far the most serious of the 3, but even he enjoys an ongoing joke about the nuts they eat for almost every meal, and Haymitch. Something about how Haymitch would love them because they serve nuts in bars. Shawn seems to be a calming force for the other two, when Rory gets too angry or Tech too silly. A peacemaker. Totally out of place in a game where you have to kill to survive.

On Thursday, Tech watches the giant wave (which the boys are wisely avoiding). "Guys, remember when that giant monster just...stopped? And that wave just stops..." He trails off, lost in thought. Then he returns to his good-natured teasing of Rory, whose sunburn on his face has begun peeling, despite lotion from the mentors. Rory laughs along good-naturedly, and teases Tech back, calling him "Professor Tech" every time he comes up with a new idea or factoid.

Prim is watching with us, and giggles. "I think Tech would be our friend at school." Gale scowls. He's worried that Rory is getting too attached to his allies, and we know he has to kill them to come home.

By the end of the week, the field is down to 8. Josie stumbles into the carnivorous insects and is eaten alive (Mark, mere feet away is untouched), and Jed dies of dehydration, having never seen another tribute, simply wandering through the jungle.

We know that the reporters will descend on District 12 on Saturday morning, so Gale and I sit up talking after Friday's mandatory viewing. Neither of us is particularly excited about the cameras, but Gale is downright sullen and annoyed. I point out that a good interview can get Rory more sponsors. Then he points out that Prim is going to be front and center.

Prim. Who is so sweet and kind, who will do anything to bring Rory home. Prim who won't say no to the capitol liaison who does the interviewing. They'll love her. She will be on every screen in Panem, and there's not a thing I can do to stop it. I know I won't sleep tonight, so we stay up and watch the recap, then the live broadcast through the night.

Rory gets a lot of screen time during the late-night broadcast after a run-in with some muttations (snakes which flick their silvery tongues threateningly at the boys' ankes). He and his friends are on the run, once again. They eventually settle back near (but not too near) the area where yesterday they saw orange monkeys with knives for teeth. Shawn is nursing a rash from some fast-growing vines, and Tech gingerly treats it with a salve from the first aid kit. They're discussing ways to possibly lure the other tributes into the area with the monkeys and scouting out the careers, trying to determine whether it's worth the risk to try to take back the cornucopia.

Rory is insistent that they can take on the careers. "It's 3 on 3. We can manage it if we can surprise them."

Tech is more hesitant, weighing the options. "Why not wait until they fight with someone else and their numbers are down? More of a fair fight for us. Maybe we can chase them back by that flying monster thing."

Shawn weighs in. "I'm with Tech. Let's wait them out."

Rory sighs and stands. "Let's keep moving. Maybe we can look at things from the back, see if they have a weakness."

They sound like boys playing a game in gym class, where they have to be king of the mountain. But they're in a jungle, figuring out how to kill other children.

Mark from District 7 narrowly avoids a pit of quicksand and runs, undetected, just uphill of Rory and his allies.

The sun has long ago gone down (Gale has fallen asleep beside me on the couch) when the alliance settles in to rest, and I lean my head on Gale's shoulder, drifting off.

I wake up just after 3am. My mom and Prim must have come home, because there's a blanket over me, and Gale is asleep on the bigger couch. Onscreen, Rory's alliance has awakened and continues around the jungle, keeping an eye on the careers. Suddenly, they come up to a wall. It's white and murky. Shawn puts his hand up, and it sinks into the edge.

He pulls it away. "It burns." His hand is twitching. The three boys stare at the wall in confusion and begin walking along it, heading toward the beach. Tech is lost in thought.

Suddenly, there is screaming. The boys look around, confused. Gale stirs on the couch, and Prim runs, barefoot from her bedroom. On screen, a figure bursts from the fog and barrels straight through Shawn, knocking him down. Rory nocks and arrow and shoots. It grazes the figure's shoulder as it rolls toward the water.

It's Mark. He rolls on the edge of the beach, moaning in agony and twitching from the fog. Rory grabs his knife from his belt, strides over, and stabs him in the neck. Blood sprays over the group, and a cannon booms. The fog retreats into the jungle, and the three remaining boys run.

In our living room, Prim screams. "He didn't have to do that...he could have helped! Or just walked away! He killed him without giving him a chance." I put my arms around her and carry her to the loveseat. She is panicked and crying. I know she's a healer at heart, and seeing her friend kill someone seems to have snapped something inside her. When he killed the girl from 2, it was in self defense. He would have died otherwise. But this was an attack. Aggressive.

My mom stumbles from her room, half awake. "What's wrong?" She looks between Gale, still waking up on the couch, and Prim, who is sobbing into my shoulder.

"Rory killed the boy from District 7." I direct the statement to my mother and hug Prim tighter. "Little Duck, he just wants to come home. He thought the boy was a threat, and killed him because he just wants to come home."

Her sobs slow, and she lifts her head. "I know...it's just not fair."

We all nod. It's not. None of this is fair. He shouldn't be fighting for his life, and Prim shouldn't have to watch children kill each other on TV.

My mom turns it off, and motions for us to go to bed. "Gale can stay on the couch" she says emotionlessly, then shuts the door to her room. Prim and I climb into my bed. For the rest of the night, I feel her shake with sobs beside me.

* * *

**A/N Thank you for all the kind reviews! Yes, the Galeniss build up is slow. I feel like Katniss wouldn't have jumped into anything quickly, based on how she was at the start of book 1. So I'm trying to stay true to that even though we all want to strangle her. ;)**


	14. Quarter Quell: Part 2

When we wake the next morning, Gale is gone. I know he's not hunting; we don't go out of the fence when there's reporters in town. He must have headed home to help his mom. Prim and I eat some eggs (Prim's chickens, our newest addition out back have begun laying) when there's a knock at the door.

"Primrose Everdeen?" The cheerful woman is clearly from the Capitol with her dyed-red hair and piercings in her neck. Prim stands from the table, smoothes her dress, and walks stiffly down the stairs. She's washed her face and braided her hair, trying to look nice for the cameras. But she looks like she's headed to the gallows. The Capitol liaison begins to shepherd her down the street, my mom opens up the shop, and I'm left alone.

I head over to Madge's, unsure of what else to do. I rarely have time to rest, and there's always hunting and gathering...so I don't know what to do with myself in these empty moments. Since Madge's father is the mayor and her mother is often sick with headaches, she often gets lonely and bored. It turns out that together we're not much better at entertaining ourselves than we are separately.

We turn on the TV, but after last night's excitement, there's not much happening with the games today. The career island, however, is down to 2 tributes, and Daphne, Cecelia's daughter, is missing. We'll have to watch the recap tonight to find out where she went.

Since we're in the mayor's house, we can't discuss anything remotely rebellious. I'm in no mood to talk about Rory, so we settle on talking about boys. Madge and Nick have been spending a lot of time together lately, and I spot a bracelet on Madge's wrist, woven from different colors of baker's twine. She practically glows when she talks about him. They're already talking about getting married, and running the old candy shop together so Nick doesn't have to work for the butcher.

"How about you and Gale...are you going to get him to run the apothecary with you?"

I dodge the question. "The apothecary is Prim's thing. I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

Madge doesn't let me off the hook that easily. "Everyone has noticed that Gale's been at your house almost every night." For all her quietness in public, Madge is good at picking up on gossip.

"If something happens, he doesn't want to be down there around everyone."

"And what are you _doing_ up there this whole time?" Madge nudges me gently. I think of our evenings cuddled on the loveseat and my internal struggle against my own feelings. My fear that I'm no longer in control of what I want. I also think of my mother, numb and empty after my father died.

"Just watching. I wouldn't know what to...do...even if something happened."

"What are you so afraid of, Katniss?" Madge asks the question kindly. What _am_ I afraid of? I've survived the loss of my father, starvation...I shouldn't _be _afraid. But I am.

"I'm afraid of having something to lose." When the words tumble from my mouth, I know they're the truth. Survival has come easily to me, because (aside from Prim), I haven't had anything to lose. But if I have something to lose and if my life is about more than just survival, I risk turning into my mother and losing myself.

* * *

During mandatory recap viewing that evening, I'm left alone. The camera crews want to get reaction shots of Gale and Prim as they watch Rory kill the district 7 boy. I don't want to be down there at all. So I sit alone, the TV the only light in the room.

We're down to 6 tributes. This has been a fairly quick games. Early this morning, the careers sent Daphne to see if she could figure out who had died overnight. She crept through the jungle, unaware that she had wandered into the area where Rory and his friends had encountered the monster. She was ripped to pieces, and the gruesome death is replayed repeatedly during the recap. Her arm ripped from her body, bleeding profusely. Her continued screams as she tried to escape. And the creature grasping her head in its beak, her legs in its talons, and pulling, silencing her screams. They interview Cecelia who praises her daughter for being brave and strong. Her eyes are distant.

After the cannon, the remaining 2 career tributes discuss breaking their alliance, but each looks equally terrified at the prospect of heading out toward the jungle alone. So they stay put in their little island, hoping the others die before they are forced to go find them.

On Sunday, Gale joins me halfway through the mandatory broadcast. He's exhausted from dealing with the reporters all day, but gives me a tight smile as he sits down beside me. I feel butterflies in my stomach.

_Not now, Katniss. Not now._

I wrap my arms around him. "No deaths today...do you think the Capitol is getting bored?"

He nods grimly. "This one must not be very popular. Not very much violence. The kids are all afraid of each other. They're probably going to force some sort of action soon." I nod, and lay my head on his chest, and can't help but notice how firm and comfortable it is. Then I'm scrambling for something, anything else to think about. I think about Rory and his allies, who have figured out that each wedge of the jungle has a different horror, and they happen cyclically. They've spent the past 2 days finding a system to avoid running into any problems. Beneath me, I can hear Gale's heart steadily beating.

"Catnip?" His voice is soft.

"Mmmm?" _I've missed this._

He puts a finger under my chin, and lifts my face to look at him. Our faces are inches away from each other. _Not now, not now_. I fight with my mind. _What if it's just because of the games? And these feelings aren't real?_ I close my eyes.

Crash!

Stupid cat. Buttercup has upset a stack of dishes on the counter, sending them tumbling to the floor. A few are broken. I leap up to clean the mess, breaking the spell. I can feel the redness in my cheeks, the warmth in my core. I refuse to look at him, and sit awkwardly on the other couch for the rest of the broadcast.

* * *

Monday at school is uneventful. They pull a few of the community home kids out of class for interviews about Lark, and Prim is with the reporters for a couple of hours. I hate it. I'm too distracted by thoughts of Rory, thoughts of Gale.

Last night I had, once again, slammed a door in his face. A door that a growing part of me very much wanted to open. I spend the morning arguing with myself internally, reminding myself that I never wanted this anyway; that falling for Gale (or anyone)was only going to open me up for heartbreak. A mine explosion could take him from me, and I'd be left as a shell, like my mother. Or we could have a child, unplanned, and he or she would be reaped. I have 5 years until Prim is out of the reapings. Five years of my heart dangling by a string, wondering if I am going to lose her. I can't add any more years onto that.

By lunch, I've somewhat resolved myself to keeping the door closed, not that I'd know how to open it if I wanted. Madge sits down next to me and opens her sandwich of cold beef. We watch the lunchroom TV in silence.

On screen, Rory and his allies are making a plan to attack the careers and take over the cornucopia. I close my eyes. If they do this, and succeed, there will only be 4 tributes left, and Rory will be in a position where he will have to kill his allies and a tiny girl.

By the time I get home from hunting, Rory and his friends have solidified a plan to distract the careers, take control of the cornucopia island, and either kill the tributes from 1 and 2, or starve them out.

The reporters have cornered Gale, and taken him to a makeshift studio in a trailer out in back of the school. Prim will be pulled in soon, and I realize they'll be stuck there for the rest of the evening, so I decide to watch in the square with Madge.

The broadcast has changed to focus on Greta, the female tribute from 3. She has done remarkably well. She quickly figured out the pattern of the jungle hazards, and spent her time hopping among 3 safe locations, avoiding other tributes and muttations. She also figured out how to gain water from a hole in some of the trees, and has been surviving on nuts and berries she's found, as well as occasional sponsor gifts.

Her cunning and survival skills, however, are no match for the gamemaker's tricks. From a section of the jungle (which should be safe), Greta comes running, chased by a monkey mutt. Its goal is not to catch or kill her, only to direct her movements toward the three boys sitting at the edge of the beach. She is so frightened and running so quickly that she almost doesn't notice the boys as she crashes into their camp.

Shawn has been keeping watch, and he tackles her to the soft ground, holding tightly to her legs.

"Rory! Tech!" They come running from the nearby jungle where they've been collecting nuts and leaves.

Tech, who is usually jovial and good natured, glowers when he sees what's happening, and Greta begins begging for the boys to spare her life. She and Tech are both from district 3, and likely know each other.

"I don't want to be the one to kill her." Tech says it worriedly, directing it more at Greta than his partners.

"No one wants to kill anyone, Tech." Rory responds with an angry glint in his eye, his eyes dark. This is a look I know from Gale when he rants against the Capitol.

"It's all bull—"

The camera cuts away to focus on the 2 remaining careers who are chatting aimlessly about missing home, and whether they should leave their island to find the other tributes and "end this quicker." I'm struck once again by how young they are. How young Rory is, and how he's, once again made himself a target. Not for the other tributes, but for the Capitol, now that he's throwing an anger-fueled temper tantrum.

When the shot returns to the alliance in the jungle, Shawn is still holding a struggling Greta, and Tech has walked alone into the jungle, away from his partners. Supplies and weapons are thrown around the campsite, and Rory is sweaty and red-faced.

"Fine, I'll do it. But that means we attack the careers my way. And then you run, or I'll come after you next." He addresses this to Sean, but yells the last part loud enough for Tech to hear. Greta screams louder.

On their island, the careers perk up at the sound, trying to scout where it is coming from. They huddle together and debate a swim out to the jungle.

Back at the alliance, Rory grabs a large knife, walks to Greta and looks down at her screaming, struggling figure. "Sorry. We all just want to go home." And he slits her throat, wipes his blade on some moss, and puts it on his belt.

Next to me, Madge whispers, "Do you think he can really kill his friends?"

Since I really _don't_ know, I shrug and whisper back "I hope so, but if he does, I don't think he'll come back the same." She gives me a tight smile.

After the cannon, the three boys come together and begin moving their camp to the next segment over, gathering the supplies that were scattered during Rory's tantrum.

Five tributes left.

* * *

The next day school is cancelled, and mandatory viewing begins at noon. Anticipating the attack on the careers, the reporters swarm Prim and Gale in front of the apothecary. I slip into the back door and mount the stairs. I replay the plan the tributes have made in my head. Rory and Tech will swim to one of the pedestals near the rear of the cornucopia. From another direction, Shawn will wait until the careers spot the other two, and silently slip into the water. The careers have few ranged weapons, so they will likely have to swim out to the pedestals to fight Rory and Tech. While they do, Shawn will swim to the front of the cornucopia and take control of the island. He's prepared to drown the boys from 1 and 2 if necessary. It's a risky plan, but it's probably a smart one. If they succeed in killing the careers, they plan to rest for a day, then go their separate ways into the jungle, seeing who can survive longest. Late the night before, they had agreed that they couldn't kill one another, and that was the fairest way to end it. If the careers escape, they'll wait for them to starve, then break the alliance into the jungle.

Gale slips into our apartment as the Capitol broadcast begins. "I just can't do it." He says "I can't watch this...with the things Rory has said, I'm sure the gamemakers are going to kill him."

We wordlessly sit together on the loveseat, my feet tucked under me and head on his shoulder . Claudius Templesmith presents the odds to us. Rory is favored 4-to-1. I bite my thumbnail until I bleed.

On-screen, Rory and Tech have begun their swim to the pedestals near the rear of the cornucopia, not trying to disguise their movements. Geo and Speck notice them, and briefly discuss how best to handle the situation. Shawn is concealed in the jungle which faces the mouth of the cornucopia.

Geo is smarter than I give him credit for, and chooses to stay on the island, sensing the trap. Speck lowers himself into the water, and heads toward the pair of pedestals where Tech and Rory are standing, taunting them. Rory has his bow at the ready, but Speck ducks behind Tech's pedestal.

Tech lunges with his knife, opening up a small wound on Speck's head. Speck grabs Tech's ankles and knocks him almost off the column, stabbing through his hand with a knife. Within seconds Speck is on top of the pedestal, prepared to stab Tech through the heart.

Thwap. Rory shoots, his arrow embedding itself in Speck's leg. Tech dumps Speck into the water and Rory shoots again. This time he misses.

I'm on the edge of my seat and Gale's leg is bouncing.

His next arrow meets its mark, hitting Speck in the stomach. The water turns red around him and the cannon fires.

Meanwhile, by the cornucopia, Shawn has snuck up behind Geo (who is distracted by the cannon). His knife is at the ready, and he grabs Geo from behind. At the last second, Geo grabs the hand with the knife and flips Shawn onto the ground, a boot on his neck.

"Any last words, four?"

Shawn's eyes are wide as Geo stabs through his abdomen with a spear. The slurping sound it makes as Geo pulls it out is sickening, and Shawn's cannon sounds.

Within minutes, two more tributes have died.

Upon hearing the cannon, Rory and Tech jump into the water and swim toward the cornucopia. Tech is clutching his bleeding hand to his side, but manages to swim faster than Rory, who is toting his arrows along. Geo is ready for them. You can see him thinking as he looks back and forth between the tributes. Tech is injured, bleeding from several places, and has been disarmed. Rory has several arrows left and is clearly in better shape. If Geo can take out Tech first, the match will be even and the Capitol will get the show it wants. If he goes for Rory first, Tech will get onto the island to grab a weapon, then it will be 2-on-1.

He lunges toward Tech as Tech reaches the island. Tech is quick and dodges the spear, heading toward the mouth of the cornucopia to grab a weapon, his knife lost in the water. Geo stalks him around the cornucopia.

Meanwhile, Rory has gotten to shore and is scrambling up the hot surface of the cornucopia. When he reaches the top, the spot where Daphne kept watch for the past week, he draws an arrow, searching for the other tributes. I watch as he takes a deep breath, training the arrow on Geo's neck.

He releases, and Geo falls to the ground. The cannon sounds. Rory now has 5 kills to his name, more than any other tribute this game. Both remaining boys are breathing heavily. Rory jumps from the cornucopia, landing next to Tech.

Tech turns to look at him. "I guess this is it? Let's rest for tonight, then split up."

Rory looks at him hard, then his face breaks. He closes his eyes, tears at the corners. "I just want to go home" he whispers.

Gale pulls my legs across his lap and wraps his arms tightly around me. "I don't know if he can kill his friend" he whispers in my ear. I nod, thinking of Rory and Tech laughing together in the jungle over the past 10 days.

Tech's hand hovers over the knife in his belt, unsure of what Rory means. He's bleeding and shaking.

Rory drops his bow, leaving himself only with his knife. His skin is blistered with sunburn. His eyes are hollow, and his limbs are stiff with pent up anger.

Rory considers the original plan for a moment, looking around at the jungle, likely imagining the horrors he'd encountered over the past few days. Then he looks back at his friend.

Gale mutters, "He's the stronger fighter. He knows he can take him. He knows he's a target and he'd rather not take his chances with the mutts. He's going to kill him."

"Would you do the same?" My question hangs in the air for a moment as the teens on the screen stare each other down.

"Yes." He says it simply. "If I knew it would get me home."

"Let's hope he can do it."

Rory takes a step toward his ally. Tech's eyes grow wide, and he grips his knife tighter. They circle one another. Rory takes half a step forward, and hesitates.

"C'mon Ror...you need to come home." Gale's breath is warm and close as he whispers to his brother.

He lunges again, this time grabbing Tech by the arm as he attempts to run. Tech spins, using his momentum to plunge his knife into Rory's side.

Gale gasps and I bury my face in his neck.

Rory groans, but keeps his grip on Tech's arm. Blood pools on the side of his jumpsuit, and he blindly lunges with his knife, catching the district 3 tribute in the arm and creating a ribbon of blood. Tech screams and yanks himself away.

They stare at each other again for a second. Rory is openly bleeding. With a roar, he screams "I just. Want. To. Go. Home." He tackles his friend, stabbing repeatedly into Tech's chest, his stomach, his neck. The sand is red with blood and the cannon sounds.

But Rory keeps stabbing, his roars turning into swears, then turning into sobs. Finally, as the trumpets sound, he collapses on the now-red sand, head in his hands.

I pick my head up and look into Gale's eyes. There are tears at the corners. "He's coming home, Catnip!" His voice is hoarse.

Our eyes meet for a moment, faces again inches from one another. I feel a stirring in my stomach. My internal chant _not now, not now_ is fainter than I've heard it.

Then his lips are on mine again. This time I don't pull away. His lips are warm and slightly rough, but there's an intensity behind them that stirs the butterflies in my stomach into an even greater flurry. One of his hands is on my cheek, and the other laces into my braid. I drape my arms around his shoulders as our kiss deepens, his tongue probing mine.

He breaks away as Rory is pulled into a hovercraft, cursing the Capitol, covered in blood. "Do you mean this, Katniss?" He only uses my real name when he's angry or serious. He presses our foreheads together, his hand still in my hair. "This isn't just because of Rory or the games or..."

"I mean it." I whisper the words, still not entirely sure of them myself. Still not sure what this kiss means to me. Or for us.

As I open my mouth to explain further, my sister runs into the room, ignoring our compromised position. She dashes to the bathroom, and I can hear the sounds of her retching.


	15. A Kiss in the Rain (Fluffy Galeniss!)

I am, for a moment, torn between the shattered moment with Gale, and my sister's need for me.

"Go, be with her, Catnip. We'll talk later."

I give him a peck on the cheek and run to the bathroom. Prim is grey with nausea, hunched over the toilet, her blonde hair in her face. I tie it into a loose ponytail and rub her back gently. From downstairs, I hear a knock on the door.

"Tell them I'm done. No more interviews." Prim vomits again.

I hear Gale get up from the couch and jog down the stairs. I just barely hear the murmurings between him and whoever was at the door.

"Do you need anything, Little Duck?" My question is meaningless. There's nothing I can do for her right now that will make this all right.

She sinks onto the cool tiles, leaning her cheek against the wall. "He didn't stop..."

I swallow my own bile as I replay the moment in my mind. "He didn't know what he was doing, Prim. He just wanted to come home to his family. And you." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know I've said the wrong thing.

Prim's eyes go wide with horror. "Not me..." she says it with growing panic. "This can't be my fault." Her tears increase.

"Oh sweetie, none of this is your fault. None of this is Rory's fault." I think of Rory sitting on the couch, trying to put an arm around Prim. Gale had told him he was too young...just 13. Yet he'd been sent to kill, sent to die. "None of this is fair, Prim. Remember that."

She stands up quickly, almost screaming. "Then who's fault is it, Katniss?" Her voice is straining. "I can never look at him again. It'll never be the same."

Prim is right.

My mom mounts the stairs. "Prim, you ran away before your interview. Cressida wants you at the studio at 11 tomorrow..." She pauses when she catches a glimpse of Prim's ashen face. Prim runs into her arms, sobbing hysterically.

"Sweetie, he's fine. He's coming home" my mom says as she rubs Prim's back.

"He's not fine. He killed..." Prim collapses onto herself and my mom carries her to bed.

* * *

A little before 11, I walk Prim to the makeshift studio behind the school. She had slept fitfully in my mom's bed the night before, and the darkness had been punctuated with her sobs. But when dawn had broken, she had gotten out of bed, taken a warm shower (thankfully the electricity is on the whole time the reporters are in town) and put on her favorite dress. My mom braided her hair, and Prim had spent most of the morning tending to the plants while my mom worked downstairs.

Prim pauses on the path and breathes deeply, eyes closed, as we approach the school. "I am very proud of him. I'm happy he's coming home" she murmurs, as if to convince herself.

When we knock on the door to the trailer, one of the assistants answers and ushers us into the dusky waiting area. We sit on uncomfortable chairs, Prim clutching my hand. "You can't leave until they take me back."

In a few minutes, Gale emerges from the studio itself, a small smile breaking the lines of stress on his face. I feel my cheeks burn, and I'm not sure what to do with the leap my stomach makes as Prim is ushered back and we're left alone in the room.

"How about a walk, Catnip?" he asks, leading me outside and away from town. The fence is on and the reporters are in the district, but I know we're both thinking what a perfect day it is for hunting. The morning had been cool and misty, and as noon approaches the temperature is still mild. A thin layer of clouds keeps the sun from beating down too intensely. I imagine spending the day sitting in a tree, waiting for game or maybe even fishing at the lake. I sigh at the thought and my annoyance at the Capitol intruders, keeping us from a day in the woods.

Instead, we find ourselves walking past town toward an unbroken length of fence. I rarely find myself on this side of town; it's mostly empty. District 12 had been designed to hold a slightly larger population, but that growth had never come to fruition. This side of town is hilly but green, and a few trees have grown up inside the fence. Gale sits down against one of these trees, facing the woods on the other side of the fence, which hums with electricity. He opens his arms to me, and I sit between his legs, leaning my back against his chest. I can't help but note that my head fits perfectly in the hollow there, and I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of safety as he envelops me. I just want to sink into him, avoid thinking about Prim and Rory.

We sit in silence for awhile, and I'm overly aware of exactly how large Gale is. He's always been tall and muscular, and I have counted on him to reach ledges and branches I'm too short to get to, and carry loads I'm too small to carry, despite my strength. But I'm struck now by the true comparison between us. He's around a foot taller than me, and broad shouldered. I think of my father. He seemed so big when I was young, but looking back, he was probably average height or a bit smaller, his strength contained in slight but sinewy limbs. Gale would have dwarfed him. I realize, as he curls his arms around me and I feel his even breathing, that with him I feel safer than I have in a long time.

Gale breaks the silence. "How's Prim doing today?"

"I think she's a bit better. It was a shock."

"Yeah, he kind of went crazy at the end there." I can feel his breathing becoming quicker. "I'm worried about him when he gets back."

"Me, too. Prim said he wouldn't be the same."

"I don't think anyone is, after that."

I think of Peeta's eyes, which get sunken and panicked when the games are mentioned or he has to go to the Capitol. I try to imagine Rory, shaking with fear, but all I can conjure up is rage. _Rage is better than fear_ I repeat to myself, echoing my thoughts the day of the reaping.

Gale's arms tighten a bit around me, as if anticipating my response to his next statement. "So...last night...you kissed me back..."

His words hang in the air for a moment as I fight the urge to run. Were we face to face, or were I not so comfortable and _safe_ feeling right now, I probably would. But one of the advantages of our current position is that we can speak without having to make eye contact. It makes the conversation easier, less intense somehow.

"Yes I did..."

"And you said you meant it."

I take a deep breath, and give the explanation I rehearsed last night and this morning. "I did...I mean...I did want to kiss you. I _do_ want to kiss you. But I don't know what else I mean. I don't know if I want a relationship now...I just don't know." I had spent half the night fighting with my emotions. My utter fear at letting myself feel this way about someone on one hand, and the very real desire to just _be_ with Gale on the other. Just to be in his presence, breathing him in, knowing that he's close to me. Fighting against the urge to hold him (and, well, everyone) at arm's length so I can't be hurt.

Gale sighs behind me and kisses the top of my head. "What _do_ you want, Katniss?" He sounds exhausted from the stress of the past few weeks, but when he says my name, I want him to say it again in the same tone of voice. The tone my father often used with my mother.

"I don't know. I don't know what any of this means. I don't know how to _do_ this." I'm starting to feel hysterical and take some deep breaths. "What if I'm not good at any of it? What happens to our friendship then?"

He tips my chin back and kisses me on the forehead. "You will always be my best friend, no matter what. We'll figure it out together."

"What do _you_ want, Gale?"

"I want you. I want you as my best friend, and I want to kiss you. I want to call you my girlfriend and stay with you until you won't have me anymore." Coming from Gale, I know these words are precious. He doesn't talk about or even acknowledge his emotions.

"Even if I don't know what I want?" I know my voice sounds like a petulant child's when I say it.

Gale gently turns me around so we're sitting cross-legged facing each other, knees touching. He puts his forehead to mine. "I only want this if it's what you want. I don't want you to kiss me back or be with me just because you feel like you have to, or you're caught up in the emotion of what's happening with Rory. If we're together, I want it to be because you want us to be together. You know me well enough to know that I won't settle for halfway. The way I feel about you...it's not like you're just some girl I want to kiss out by the slag heap. I want this to be genuine."

I smile and pull back a little, teasing. "How many girls have you been kissing out by the slag heap, Hawthorne?" I realize a moment too late what I'm asking. My face is gets hot, and I avoid his gaze. "You don't have to answer that. That wasn't fair."

Gale's face is beginning to redden as well, but he takes a deep breath. "I set you up for that one, Catnip." He pauses, searching my face. "Lots. None of them were important. I didn't _mean_ any of it." Then, a grin plays at the corner of his lips, and he asks the question as if he already knows the answer. "And how about you, how many other boys have you been kissing? Slag heap or elsewhere?"

I freeze, remembering the moment Peeta kissed me. Do I need to tell Gale? Should I tell him? On one hand, he's already been jealous of Peeta, and knowing about the kiss will only increase his annoyance at the victor. On the other hand, Gale has been more than honest with me, and I owe him the same. If he were to find out later I wasn't candid with him, could he ever trust me again.

I breathe deeply again and look at my hands. "Just one."

I peek at Gale. He looks surprised. "Did you run away from him, too?" The question is full of cautious teasing.

"Yeah. I did a lot of running that day."

"What day?"

"The same day you kissed me. Peeta kissed me when I went to tell him goodbye."

Gale's neck tenses, but his face is crestfallen. "Is this why you spend time with him? Do you guys have a thing? Is this why you're so unsure?"

"No" I say, resolutely, "he's just a good friend. But not my best friend." Gale is still crestfallen.

The tide of my internal battle begins to change, and my desire to take care of him, keep him near is winning. I muster my courage and reach up to cradle the back of Gale's head, bringing it down toward mine. And I kiss him, in spite of the doubts and fears I have. Because Peeta has nothing to do with why I'm hesitant, and I can't bear the thought of Gale's insecurity about his importance to me. He tastes of early summer fruit.

This kiss is not interrupted by my sister or her cat. This kiss isn't clouded by extraneous emotions. As he pulls me into his lap, cradling me in his solid arms, the fragmented thoughts in my head begin to crystallize. As our tongues intertwine and he holds me close, I'm still unsure about the future, unsure if I want to open myself to the kind of pain my mother has endured. I'm still absolutely sure I don't want to have children. But now, right now...

I break the kiss and we're both breathing hard. "This." I whisper the word as I put a hand on his chest. "This is what I want. I want to be your..." The word feels silly and juvenile and sticks in my throat.

"Girlfriend." He finishes my sentence teasingly, and gives me a broad smile that I usually only see in the woods.

"Fine. Girlfriend." I know I'm being pouty and stubborn with my annoyed tone, but if I'm going to let him gain ground on this, I feel like I need to maintain some level of control here. "But I'm not agreeing to the rest." I know Gale wants love, marriage, kids some day.

"I never asked you for that" he reminds me, knowing exactly what I'm talking about. In the distance we both hear thunder, and can see a nearby storm moving in our direction. "C'mon, let's go."

We walk hand in hand back toward town as the storm draws closer, a misty rain falling around us. When we pause in the alley in back of the apothecary, I can hear Peeta's mom yelling in the bakery, and smell late lunches being served at Sae's. Gale wraps his arms around my waist just as raindrops begin to fall, and kisses me. This kiss is short and sweet, but full of promise.

"You'll be OK walking back in the storm?" I ask as the rain picks up.

"Rain's never hurt me before" he shrugs. "Thank you for being my _girlfriend_, Katniss." His tone teases as he emphasizes the word I find so silly. I watch him walk back toward the seam and I head inside.

When I get inside, my mom is standing over the treatment table helping Mrs. Scot, a woman I recognize from the seam. Her leg is propped on the table, and I can smell the burnt flesh as soon as I get in the door. I'm also suddenly conscious of the fact that I'm soaked from head to toe, red faced and grinning uncontrollably. My mother is used to me running as soon as an injury comes in, so she doesn't bat an eye when I immediately dash upstairs.

I've managed to change and dry my hair somewhat on a tattered old towel when I hear Prim skip up the stairs. My stomach growls, and I'm reminded that I haven't eaten lunch yet. Since I'm pretty sure she hasn't eaten anything at all today, I direct her to the table.

"But Katniss, I'm not hungry" she whines. I ignore her and, after digging through the fridge, present her with a plate of leftover hard-boiled egg, some cucumber from our garden, a few chives, and a piece of bakery bread with butter. I fix myself an identical plate and begin eating. Prim mostly pushes her food around her plate.

"You have to eat, Prim." I say it as gently as I can. "Starving yourself won't change anything, and you'll only feel worse." She sighs and picks at a few cubes of egg, so I butter her bread and put it in her hand. "Eat it and I'll tell you a secret."

I apparently pique her interest, because the piece of bread disappears fairly quickly, and she chokes down a few pieces of cucumber. "So what's the big secret?"

The thought of saying the words out loud suddenly causes a rising panic in my chest, but I manage to squeak them out anyway, because I need to tell someone, and my sister seems like a good choice. "Gale kissed me. We're kinda...together."

A small grin finally bursts through the unending glumness of the past few weeks. "I know."

"How on Earth do you know? This just happened?"

Her grin grows. "Mom saw you through the back window. And Mrs. Scot. So pretty much the whole seam will know by tomorrow." She's triumphant. Mrs. Scot is a known gossip.

I spend the rest of the afternoon up in our house. Eventually I get bored with watching the rain fall. We have no homework, no school for a few days anyway (they've already announced mandatory viewing in 3 days, and they're just cancelling school until then). My clothes are clean, food is made, and I clearly can't go to the woods today. I consider walking to the seam to talk to Gale, but I realize it will open up more questions from his family and the neighbors. So eventually I switch on the TV and Prim joins me on the loveseat.

Onscreen, they're taking frequent breaks from coverage of Rory. Seeing a child stab another child well past the point of death doesn't seem to be playing well with the Capitol. Ironic, because if the boys were just a few years older, this would be the kind of ending the gamemakers bank on. So they're replaying his interview and parade. And in between they're updating us on what all the other victors are doing with their time in the Capitol. I pick up a book of Prim's, an old book about and boy and a girl with an imaginary kingdom, and flip through it while half listening.

Finnick Odair is seen around town with any variety of women at a variety of ages. I wrinkle my nose in disgust and Prim mutters "ugh, what a jerk."

Then they show Annie Cresta, who isn't often seen on-screen. She's walking around some gardens in the city, her eyes vacant. They explain that she's suffered emotionally since her win, probably due to the "primitive experience of district life." Yeah, right. But they show her once, stepping off the train with Finnick, and I recognize the expression on her face...

Cecelia is pictured, buying toys for her remaining children with tears in her eyes. They interview her repeatedly, almost as if to taunt her.

Then they begin talking about the daughter of some banker, and how she's had her "coming out" party this week, presenting her to fine society. There she is in a gauzy lavender dress that laces up the back and skims over her curvy hips. Her chestnut brown hair is curled to one side of her head, and her lips are painted a subdued crimson. At her side is Peeta. I'm again struck by how different Capitol Peeta seems from District 12 Peeta. His eyes are sad and hollow, but he graciously holds an umbrella over the banker's daughter's head and accompanies her to her ball. He smiles for the cameras and remarks about what a privilege it is to accompany her.

Prim wrinkles her nose again. "What's he doing with Capitol girls? He's too nice for that. Lots of girls like him...Delly talks about him all the time." I sigh as I think about my sister's growing relationship with Delly. Delly is the sister Prim never had – the one who will talk shoes and boys with her, and help her curl her hair. My fierce protection and constant hunting (to keep her alive) can't compete most days.

"I'm not sure, Little Duck. He doesn't like to talk about what happens in the Capitol."

"I bet Rory would never date a girl from the Capitol. He hates the Capitol." Prim and I are going to have to have a conversation about keeping the Hawthornes' thoughts on the Capitol secret.

"I bet he wouldn't Prim. But let's just get through this week, OK?"

She nods. We continue half-watching the TV in silence.

* * *

**Just an FYI, this Gale is 100% Liam Hemsworth in my head. And Katniss is as she was originally in HG (tiny). **

**Ok, the original story in my head went up until the kiss at the end of last chapter (and didn't include some of the beginning stuff). I had finished up to this chapter when I started posting the story. Everything from here on out came to me later...I'm really struggling to write a relationships between two such reserved people, so feedback helps! :) Updates may become slower (recently they've been Mon/Thurs/weekend) as time goes on and I catch up to myself.**

**Just to give you an idea of the timeline here: the story I currently have planned out goes to the 78th hunger games and several months after that, with an epilogue 5-10 years after _that_. But we'll skip a lot of the years in between. So it won't be too long...maybe 40 chapters at the most? IDK, I don't have it finished!**

I love your feedback!


	16. Anger and Consequences

For the next few days, the Capitol reporters hound the entire Hawthorne family, plus Prim. Gale and I catch glimpses of each other, but don't get a chance to really be together. Instead, I find myself spending time at the Mayor's house. Madge and I don't talk much; we've always been comfortable with silence. She plays the piano and we walk around the square. When we do talk, it's about Gale and Nick. She seems beyond pleased that Gale and I are a "thing."

When mandatory viewing comes around (so we can watch Rory as he sees the "official" cut of the games), Madge and Nick join me above the apothecary. Gale is still stuck downstairs with the reporters, much to my disappointment. I muse about the changing dynamic; just a week ago I wasn't sure how I felt about Gale, and fought with myself over whether I wanted to spend time close to him. Now I've dropped a guard of some kind and I can finally admit to myself how much I crave his company.

We're required to watch the viewing every year. It's generally boring, and an unpleasant reminder of two kids from our district who have died in the preceeding weeks. This year, Nick and Madge curl up together on the couch, leaving me alone on the loveseat, missing Gale. We chat about school, and Nick tells us about his time with Rooba, which he hates. On-screen, Caesar introduces District 12's prep teams, stylists and escort. Peeta is introduced as both the reigning victor and the mentor of the newest victor. He's sunken-eyed and anxious. Nick quiets on the couch and mutters, "I wish he'd talk about what they do to him in the Capitol."

Then Rory rises up through a hole in the stage. His stylist has dressed him in a red shirt and black pants, but the width of the collar and the black bow tie only serve to make Rory look somehow younger than he did during the games. His hair looks slightly, purposefully rumpled, and his eyes, like Peeta's, have circles around them. When the close in on his face, however, I once again see anger. They sit him down amid the cheers, and start the replay of the games.

"He's pissed." Madge is the first to break the heavy emotions in the room. None of us particularly want to watch the replay (right now they're showing Daphne apologizing as she spears Lark through the stomach), but we've fallen silent as we process the broken teenager on that stage. Whenever they show Rory's reaction in the corner of the screen, he's not cheering as some victors have. He's not crying. You can tell he's not numb, as many victors are. He's seething with rage, the vein in his neck standing out.

_Anger is better than fear_. I'm reminded again of my mantra through the reaping. But now a doubt is creeping into my mind. _At what point does anger stop being a tool, and become a vulnerability?_

We chat aimlessly for the next 3 hours. Eventually, as the recap is drawing to a close (they are showing Rory and Tech facing off on the island), the door swings open and Gale quietly enters, wrapping his arms around me on the loveseat and completely avoiding eye contact with Nick. I smile and settle into his chest. We find something, anything to talk about while Rory once again stabs Tech on-screen, screaming and stabbing. The image has been burned into my brain, but the Capitol continues to replay it. Over and over. I bury my face in Gale's shirt. I refuse to look at Rory's reaction.

Finally, the recap is over, and President Snow crowns Rory a victor. "I would like to congratulate you, Rory _Hawthorne_." He emphasizes the last name, and I wonder if he (or someone who works for him) has made the connection. The connection to Gale's father. To mine, and to the fact that our fathers died as rebels. I try not to think of Prim, whose name _Primrose Everdeen_ has been on the lips of every Capitol commentator for weeks.

President Snow slowly lowers the crown onto Rory's head, and Rory stares back at him, hard. Defiantly. Angrily. "Rory, Stop." Gale says behind me, lamely. Rory can't hear us. But if I know Peeta, he's saying the same thing, thousands of miles away in the Capitol.

Rory keeps eye contact with the president for the rest of the broadcast.

* * *

Caesar always interviews the victor on the afternoon after the replay of the games. This year is no different. I take my shift in the apothecary for the morning, and warily watch the cameras as they set up in the square. I resentfully contemplate what the life of a capitol reporter must be like; moving to whatever district is most popular that year, staying only a few weeks, and disrupting everyone's lives. Gale stops by for awhile to talk and tell me all about how his neighbors found out (from Mrs. Scot, of course) that we were together. I'm horribly embarrassed. Then he and Prim are again taken outside by the reporters, and I'm left alone until the interview begins.

Madge and Nick have chosen to do their mandatory viewing at Madge's house (likely to avoid the tense standoff that Gale and Nick had at the end of last night). My mom is somewhere in the square, talking to the neighbors. I contemplate joining them, but I'm exhausted with being around people lately. Without the solitude of the woods, I find myself feeling even more tense than the situation would otherwise call for, and I'm craving some solitude. Or time with Gale, but he's with his family tonight.

The interview begins innocuously enough. Caesar is good at what he does, and seems to sooth some of Rory's anger, put him at ease. They chat about Rory's victory, and his excitement to return to his family and friends. I can tell that Rory has been coached (likely by Peeta), and he is doing a decent job of hiding his rage and anger. He again reminds me so much of Gale it almost hurts. It's not Gale _now_ he reminds me of, it's Gale when I first met him. Determined, but wounded, and doing anything he can to survive. And angry. Gale's anger has become more controlled over the years, but Rory hasn't reached that level of maturity yet. I'm afraid for him.

As the interview wraps up, I'm ready to breathe a sigh of relief. Rory hasn't lost it yet. But Caesar asks one last question.

"Rory Hawthorne, before the games you gave the Capitol some sage advice about treasuring what they have. Do you have any fresh words of wisdom as you head home?"

There is a pause. I can see the gears turning in Rory's head. The two parts of himself are warring: the half that is focused entirely on self-preservation, and the part which is angry. If this were Gale, I'd think the self-preservation half would win out. But this is Rory. He's had less practice at keeping himself alive.

Rory's voice is low and even, full of rage. "The Capitol can go F*%$ itself, and President Snow should watch his back." I can picture Peeta, likely standing in the room, cradling his head in his hands.

Caesar's mouth opens and closes a few times. Then the screen goes black.

Outside, I hear the peacekeepers swing into action, ushering people into their homes and back out of the square. The district-wide PA system, generally reserved for mining emergencies, crackles on. Cray's voice fills the air. "May I have your attention, please. Curfew hours will begin now, and remain in place until 7am. Please return to your assigned dwellings. Thank you." Adrenaline shoots through my body. There is no way this is a good thing.

I hear my mom and Prim return to the apothecary. They stay downstairs, and I can hear the cadence of their voices, talking quietly. I consider joining them, but I'm not sure what to say. I contemplate what Rory's actions might mean for his family or the district. I think of Peeta, encouraging me to keep myself safe. I also know the peacekeepers in 12, and for the most part they're lenient. In fact, I could probably get away with visiting the seam tonight if I was unobtrusive. Do I need to keep myself safe? Hide somewhere? Is this the spark we've been waiting for? Could this unite the districts? Part of me hopes so, but part of me knows the truth: Rory's words won't unite anyone. All they will do is incite Snow to somehow punish us.

I'm about to sneak out of the house to discuss it with Gale, when suddenly there's a commotion downstairs and I hear some shouts. And the sound of peacekeepers.

Prim runs up the stairs. "Katniss, quick, run next door and get Mr. Mellark. Hurry."

I run quickly next door, making my way through the rain, which has again begun to fall. Bannock and his father are both at the counter, and jump when I burst through the back door. "My mom says she needs you next door." Both look at me in confusion. I probably should have gotten more information. "I'm not sure why."

Mr. Mellark catches a glimpse of my frantic face and wet clothes and grabs an umbrella from next to the door. Together, we walk across the porches to the apothecary. Through the window, I can see Madge and Nick, sitting in chairs a distance away from the treatment table, Madge's arm around his shoulder. My mom and Prim are bent over a blonde figure on the table, arguing with peacekeepers.

As we swing the door open (the bells sounding much too cheerful for the moment), my mom is almost shouting. "Unless you're going to help, you need to get out of the way. If she doesn't make it, I'll notify you the usual way." Her eyes blaze and the peacekeepers back away a bit and mutter amongst themselves.

As soon as they move, we see who is on the table. There lies Peeta's mother. Her face and head are covered with bruises, and she moans in pain. Blood drips from the side of her forehead, her mouth and her nose. Her hands are covered with cuts and scratches (_defensive marks_, I think to myself) and her skirt oozes with blood. Mr. Mellark rushes to her side, grabbing her hand.

"Charlene...Charlene." His voice is almost a sob. "What happened?!"

Nick is the first to speak. "We were walking back from Madge's through the empty square. We saw the peacekeepers beating someone..." He catches his breath. "We almost ran away, but I recognized her dress One peacekeeper knocked her in the head with his gun. The other kept kicking her in the side over and over. We tried to stop them..." He buries his head in his hands as his mother begins choking and seizing. I look around and realize the peacekeepers have slipped out the back door.

Prim is trying to comfort the baker as he holds his wife's hand, sobbing. My mom is surprisingly calm. "Get her on her side. Prim, get the painkillers from the cabinet." She looks at the baker's devastated face. "You don't think...not again..."

"I don't know, Lily." Their unspoken words hang heavily in the air.

I know what the painkillers mean. My mom rarely uses the real painkillers unless someone is nearly dead. Madge bolts up. "Wait for just a second.." she tears off in the direction of her house. While she's gone, my mom puts ice on Mrs. Mellark's head and murmurs something about brain swelling. A few minutes later Madge returns with a box of bottles and needles. Morphling.

The relief in the room is palpable when Mrs. Mellark stops jerking. But my mom and Prim look grim. "Katniss, please go get Bannock" she says quietly. Mrs. Mellark doesn't have much time left.

I can't bear the thought of watching their grief, so I welcome the opportunity to watch the bakery counter. Even after closing time, I simply perch on a stool in back of the counter, pondering why the peacekeepers would have beaten Mrs. Mellark. I try to figure out which peacekeepers it was, but I realize that I didn't recognize either of the men in the apothecary.

Finally, a few hours later, the undertaker pulls up with his hearse and takes the body away. The three remaining Mellarks traipse silently into the bakery and up the stairs, avoiding eye contact.

* * *

**A/N My seester has been in town, so I haven't been working as much on this as I'd like. I'm also still re-tooling the next few chapters...what would YOU like to see happen? :)**


	17. Aftermath

I expect the next day to be painful and terrifying, but the rest of the town seems oblivious to what happened the night before. The day dawns sunny and bright. After a storm, a fog tends to hang on the mountains giving them a mysterious air, but even that burns off quickly. By the time I wake up (I had gotten home long after my mom and Prim had gone to bed), the apartment is empty and I can hear my mom working downstairs in the apothecary. People bustle around the square in preparation for the parties that will take place in the next few days.

The image of Mrs. Mellark, beaten and bloody flashes into my mind. I choke back nausea. Then I think of Peeta.

I know Peeta and his mother didn't have an ideal relationship, but I can't imagine how he will feel when he finds out. Did they call him in the Capitol last night to let him know? Will they wait until he is home? He will be heartbroken.

An hour before the victors arrive home, Gale comes by to pick up Prim. He kisses my forehead, and Prim makes a face. I will not be meeting the train with the others (as I'm not on Cressida's "list"), but Madge and I will head up to Victor's Village with Delly, Nick and Bannock and meet Peeta at his house. The Capitol people need to film Rory's tour of his new house and finish family interviews, so hopefully Peeta will have a few hours to grieve in peace.

The four of us meet in front of the apothecary, and I wave gently to Mr. Mellark, who is alone in his store. They're still making him do the baking for the banquet. We head the back way to the Victor's Village so the cameras don't catch us. Madge and Nick cling to one another, and Bannock eyes me cautiously. Just as we leave the square, Delly slips from her house and joins us. The five of us steal into Peeta's back door. Nick and Bannock light a fire and fill his fridge with the food they've brought, and Delly, Madge and I head upstairs to straighten up so that Peeta can come home to a clean house, even if he can't come home to a complete family.

A short while later, we hear commotion outside, and see the large group coming up the path. The five of us pile onto the soft couches and chairs in Peeta's living room just before he steps in the door. His face collapses when he sees the fire in the fireplace and the five of us waiting for him.

In a surprising display of emotion, Peeta's brothers run over to him, and the three boys embrace. I can hear Peeta murmuring something that sounds like "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

Bannock says "there's nothing to be sorry about, Peeta. None of this is your fault." The room fills with silence.

When the boys break away, Delly runs into Peeta's arms and holds him for a few minutes, then Madge. Finally he opens his arms to me and I embrace him as well. "My mom did the best she could Peeta, I'm sorry." My voice breaks.

"Thank you. And thank your mom." His voice his gravelly from crying.

We spend the rest of the afternoon sitting with Peeta, mostly in silence. At one point Delly tries to ask questions about what happened, but Madge shakes her head slightly. "Maybe in a few days when we can take a walk..." she trails off. There is something more going on here than we realize.

It's getting dark by the time we head back to town. Delly sobs as she hugs Peeta again, and he strokes her hair. Bannock looks down the hill toward town and back at Peeta. "Need me to stay?" he asks.

Peeta nods. "I think that would help." He doesn't want to be alone. We all glance at one another. We don't want him to be alone either.

* * *

When I get home, Prim is full of stories about Rory's new house. All of Panem loves Prim, and she's nearly become a (reluctant) celebrity in her own right. So she's on-screen for much of tonight's Mandatory Viewing. First they show Rory sobbing into his mother's arms (I'm just happy he's not doing something rebellious), then holding onto his younger brother and sister. Next, Gale embraces him tightly and mutters "good job, Ror." Gale also surprises me by walking over to Peeta and shaking his hand. "Thank you for bringing my brother home." Maybe there's hope that they'll get along eventually.

Then they show Rory's reunion with Prim. He picks her up with joy and she giggles and screams. And when he puts her down, she hugs him and whispers "you came back!" as if she almost can't believe it.

"Of course I did. I said I would." But Rory seems subdued somehow, as if he's cautious about what he says.

Halfway through the broadcast, there's a rap at the door. I jump, as I hadn't heard anyone on the stairs, and I'm imagining the worst: peacekeepers. When I answer, however, Gale is there, holding a bouquet of wildflowers. We haven't spent much time together since the rainy day he kissed me out by the garden, and no time alone since then. I feel suddenly shy when Prim darts past me to finish watching the broadcast downstairs.

"So...they told me to bring a date to the banquet tomorrow." Gale offers me the bouquet.

"And who are you thinking of bringing?" I ask, feigning confusion. I smile as I grab a glass to put the flowers in.

Gale sighs exaggeratedly. "I don't know...I kind of want to bring this one girl, but she's a giant pain in my..."

"Gale!" I giggle. I'm not used to flirting, but this feels natural on some level. I change the subject anyway. "How's Rory doing?"

Gale's grin fades. "Something happened, Katniss. Some time between the interview and now...he's subdued. He's still angry, but he's keeping it under wraps. He was glad to see Prim though. I think she does him a lot of good. I'm glad she came with for the house tour."

"So when do you guys move to the victors' village?" I picture the large house Rory had been given, which now has a big "75" plastered next to the front door.

With a pained expression, Gale spits out "when the media leaves." He's annoyed. "I don't like it. It's too...Capitol." He feigns an overdone Capitol accent "I just feel the barbarians in the outdistricts can't fully appreciate the rich mahogany of the foyer." We giggle together.

"You'll get used to it." I assure him. More than anything, I'm happy that he will no longer have to live in the seam or go to the mines every day. He will be safe. I won't have to worry about him blowing up or going hungry. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest for a few moments, just enjoying his safety and presence.

He bends down to kiss me again. If I can get used to this, he can get used to his new home in the Victor's Village.

We're interrupted by my mother noisily climbing the stairs. Even though Gale and I break our kiss before she reaches the top, she stares hard at us when she enters the room. "Gale, I would bet your mom needs some help packing. You should probably go." Even though she didn't appear to care that I spent the past 2 weeks practically alone with Gale (let alone 5 years unaccompanied in the woods with him), she is suddenly trying to separate us. I shoot her a dirty look.

But Gale acquiesces. "I should probably go help. See you tomorrow, Catnip?"

The question is directed at me, but my mom responds. "Will she be going with you to the banquet?"

He looks between us with confusion. My mother has yielded to me since I was 11 years old. He sounds uncertain. "I'm hoping so? Prim was invited as Rory's date, and they told me to bring someone, so I thought..." His uncertainty is slightly humorous. He's not sure how to manage my mother's newfound strictness.

She relaxes a bit. "Yes, both girls can go." Gale begins to retreat down the stairs, and my mom continues. "Gale? Please remember that I love both of my daughters fiercely." He throws me a look of bewilderment and disappears down the stairs.

My mom chooses this moment to lecture me. It is, perhaps, the most uncomfortable conversation of my life. She lectures me about the herbs and flowers we use to prevent pregnancy. She lectures me about a woman's cycle, and how it influences her fertility. She pleads with me to wait to have sex until I'm older. I roll my eyes. I can't even say the word aloud. I'm not having sex any time soon. She finishes with "I feel like I was remiss in not having this conversation with you earlier, but I also didn't expect you to start a relationship with a boy yet. Any boy. Gale's a nice man, I just wish you were older." She softens a bit and her eyes lower. "I'm sorry, I suppose I should have been more of a mother..."

My face is hot with rage and embarrassment, but I just nod. I don't know what response she wants from me. Even if I did, I would probably go out of my way to react in exactly the opposite way. "I need to figure out what I'm wearing tomorrow" I say stiffly, and head to my room.

* * *

I am dressed in the blue reaping dress (although Prim has used her new friendship with Delly and our good fortune to order several new dresses, I have resolutely refused) with my hair pinned up by my mother, waiting in the front room for Prim. She emerges from her room and shyly twirls around for me. She is wearing a knee-length sky blue dress with a full skirt. The cap sleeves and sweetheart neckline (a term I only learned this morning) are trimmed in navy, and her flat shoes match the trim. Her long blonde hair is in low pigtails, and the color of her dress make her eyes sparkle. She looks sweet and fresh and beautiful.

She's cheerful as we take the short walk across the square to the justice building. "I thought he'd be different, Katniss, but he's still Rory." I smile at her analysis of the situation.

We are ushered into a holding area where Gale, his family, Rory, Peeta and Haymitch wait. Madge trudges in behind us. Effie, the Capitol escort, begins fussing about arranging us in pairs so that we may be "properly presented" to the banquet.

I think about who will be at the banquet. We don't have many VIPs in District 12. It will be some peacekeepers, the Mayor and his wife, and a few other of the successful townspeople. Probably more Capitol people. Not much of a "presentation."

Posy and Vick begin giggling when she instructs them how to walk down the staircase together, and their giggles intensify when she insists that Haymitch and Hazelle link arms for their presentation as well. Gale and I are next in line, then Peeta and Madge behind us. Finally, once we're all seated, we rise from our chairs as Rory and Prim are presented. Effie has pinned a small spray of roses to Rory's shirt, and placed a matching bouquet in Prim's hand. They look like children playing dress up.

I lean over and whisper into Haymitch's ear. "Why did they make Peeta come? He's in no shape for this." And he isn't. Madge is gently rubbing his back while he slouches over the table.

"Sweetheart" Haymitch begins, quietly into my ear, the nickname sounding more sarcastic than endearing, "when you get direct orders, you follow them. Especially when you've just received a message like that." He turns and hugs me tightly, which is awkward because he's, well, Haymitch, and he stinks of wine and unwashed hair. "The day after they leave, meet at the normal spot before school."

Gale gives me a quizzical look, but fills in the blanks and nods. He grasps my hand tightly, laceing our fingers together. And we somehow survive the banquet.

School begins again the next day. It's July 1st, so it's a mindless day full of new classes and schedules. Madge, Delly and I (and I suppose Peeta, if he had to go to school) are 18s this year, and we're being prepared vocationally. Madge and Delly are sent to bookkeeping and business management classes. When I met with my counselor the a few weeks before, she had been unsure of what to do with me. I'd been on the "mine track" since childhood, but now that I live in town (and stand to inherit the apothecary), I'm probably better suited to the business end of things. She had looked at my grades (average at best) and sighed, then wrote my name in the business classes.

A few days later, after the first parcel day, the cameras finally pack up. I'm looking forward to things getting back to normal. I long to be out in the sun and the woods. I know that the berries are probably thick in the patches we've protected with nets. Even more, I'm looking forward to time with Gale. This week, we'll get Saturday and Sunday together in the woods. I barely pay attention as they assign books and seats.

On our first day with no media in town, I sneak over to the candy shop as soon as I spy Madge opening up the door. She carries a little book with her, and I quickly recognize it as one of the bug-detecting devices that Haymitch had spoken about. He must have gotten an extra while they were in the capitol. Madge opens it up and presses the correct buttons, then sighs with relief when the green light turns on.

Soon, Haymitch and Gale show up. Gale sits next to me and takes my hand in his. Madge and I are still talking about our accounting teacher when Haymitch clears his throat.

"We should probably get started."

"What about Peeta? And isn't Rory going to join us?" I ask, confused

"I think they both need some time before they get involved again. And this..." Haymitch points back and forth between Gale and I. "Who's going to tell the boy about this? He's been too distracted to notice so far, but the whole district knows, and someone's going to let the cat out of the bag."

My face flushes and I smell liquor when Haymitch speaks. I argue with him. "I saw him on TV. He's got plenty of girls around, so I doubt he cares."

"Oh, he cares, Sweetheart. I'm not saying you need to drop your boyfriend here or anything, but at least try to take his feelings into account. He needs to hear it from you, not some busybody in town, and not from the kid who got his mom killed."

That silences us all. Madge begins in a small voice. "We really thought it was a case of mistaken identity or something. We hoped..."

"Girlie, let me tell you what Snow does when he's angry. First, he looks at the situation. He figures out who needs to hear his message. Is it just a victor? A whole district? Then, he figures out what you're most afraid of losing." Haymitch pauses and searches our eyes, to make sure we're comprehending.

_Peeta's mom isn't what anyone is most afraid of losing._

Then he continues. "But he doesn't start there. He sends you a warning. He makes you feel the pain of loss, but also the fear of losing more. He rarely takes away everything because he knows you're most dangerous when you have nothing to lose. Once he figures out what warning to send, he lets you know what's happening, but not soon enough for you to change it. Just soon enough for you to know that what is happening, right this moment, is your fault."

Gale and Madge look confused, but I understand Haymitch perfectly. _Killing Peeta's mom was a warning._

"So you're saying that this is because of Rory?" He nods. "So who were they trying to send the message to?"

"Peeta and I. That we need to control him. Besides, they couldn't exactly threaten his family when he still had a homecoming and a banquet to attend." Haymitch is right.

"So he ordered Peeta's mom killed as a warning?" The true horror of the situation dawns on me as I say this. "So it could continue...they could kill more..."

Madge is making sense of things. "So if Rory acts the way he did during the games or his interview, says those things, Snow will kill someone else?"

"Yes. Probably someone close to Rory."

Gale is beyond angry and his hand is squeezing mine to the point of pain. "So you're telling me that if my brother doesn't behave himself, Snow will kill me, my mom or the kids?"

"It depends what the transgression is. Few things have to be dealt with immediately...Snow's favorite method is simply to reap a family member or close friend. Make the victors watch as they suffer through the Games." Haymitch looks at me as he says this.

My heart drops in my chest. Gale is too old to be reaped. Vick and Posy are too young for this year's reaping. But there's someone else who's gotten just as much attention, just as much camera time.

Prim.

Prim's life now depends on the behavior of a very angry 13-year-old boy. My vision begins to narrow, and before I know it, I'm running. I vaguely hear Gale calling after me, but all I can think of is running away from everything that has happened. Rory was reaped. He won, but at the cost of my sister's innocence. Peeta's mom. And now this, another threat to Prim, this time a threat to her life. And I can't do anything about it.

All I need at this point is the woods. And Gale. I don't even have time to stop and ponder the fact that I suddenly _need _Gale. He will know to follow me, know where to find me. I head toward the meadow, and the loose section of chain link there.

I am just about to climb under the fence when I hear the humming. I stop. Why is the fence on? We all heard the Capitol train leaving the night before. Historically, they've always turned the fence off as soon as the train cleared the district.

And so I sit, huddled in a cluster of forsythia in the meadow. In the early spring, the graceful branches full of yellow flowers are my signal that the hard winter is over. Now the branches are green and leafy with summer growth, beautiful in their own way, but they've lost the promise of hope.

Within minutes, Gale has crawled into my little cloister, comically filling the space with his bulky figure. "Catnip, you need a bigger hiding place if you're expecting me to come comfort you." He draws me into his arms and holds me.

My breath is coming shakily, but I find myself with dry eyes. I'm beyond grief. I'm numb. "I've done everything I can to protect her. I took the tesserae, not her. I hunted, I risked my life...and now I can't save her."

Gale whispers into my hair. "She's not doomed, Catnip. Rory will keep himself under control if he knows what's at stake." I nod, but I'm still unconvinced, and Gale's voice doesn't sound very confident either. We sit intertwined for awhile, and Gale breaks the silence again. "We could still do it, you know. Survive out there. Escape all this."

"Only if we could take Prim."

"Then Rory will insist on coming."

"Then we'll probably have to bring Peeta and Haymitch so Snow doesn't kill them to find out where he is." I can't tell if I'm joking or serious at this point.

"And of course we'd have to bring my mom and the kids. And probably your mom."

"And the rest of the Mellarks." I imagine Nick and Gale forced to live together in the woods, nearly killing one another.

"Then Madge and Delly will want to come." Gale finishes.

I burst into what amounts to half laughter. If we keep this up, the whole town will be coming. It's absurd, but no more absurd than the situation we're currently in: the president of Panem is so unnerved by an angry 13-year-old that he is willing to kill people. I envision just the first part of the plan. Gale and I really could do it. We'd have our bows, our snares. We could head south and find somewhere a bit more temperate and create some sort of shelter. Live off the land. At this point, it's a pretty attractive option.

"What about after Prim's done? Out of the reaping?" Gale asks, his voice more serious. This has always been an ongoing joke between us, but there have been a few times over the years that I've felt he was actually serious. This is one of them.

"We can talk about it then. You still have Vick and Posy" I point out.

I'm suddenly aware of the sun, and realize I've long since missed the school bell. "I should get going. And you probably need to help your mom move." I crawl out of the clump of bushes, and Gale follows.

He grabs a twig out of my hair. I kiss him. "Thank you...for being there. For being with me."

"Any time, Catnip." He hesitates for a moment, as if he has something to tell me, but thinks better of it. "After school, come by our house in the seam. Maybe we can go hunting if the fence is off."


	18. Telling Peeta

I rush to school, accepting my tardy slip. When I sit down in 2nd period, Madge gives my hand a squeeze.

After school, I meet up with Prim, who is excited about the Hawthornes' move up to the victor's village. Our whole walk to the seam, she chatters on about the sizes of the rooms and the appliances in the kitchen. We knock on the door, and it's answered by an equally-excited Posy. I still have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing what I learned this morning.

"Prim! Rory's still at his house - - our house - - but he'll be so excited to see you! Guess what? We're going to paint my room pink and hang yellow curtains, and maybe I can get a cat like Buttercup..." Posy is bouncing on her toes as she greets Prim.

She leads Prim away into the bedroom, and I see Vick and Hazelle packing up bedding in the boys' room. Hazelle gives me a wave and yells "Gale's out back taking down the clotheslines and packing up the wash buckets."

I walk out the back door to find him working in the yard. He's probably the only Hawthorne tall enough to reach all of the clotheslines that crisscross their yard, a byproduct of Hazelle's job as a washerwoman. I sit down on the steps to watch, and wonder whether she'll still take in laundry for extra spending money, or just live on Rory's salary. I find myself admiring the way his t-shirt hugs his body when he turns around.

"Hey Catnip!" He greets me cheerfully but carefully. Without asking, I know why. We're not going to tell our families. We're not going to scare Prim. Maybe he'll talk to Rory, but we'll otherwise keep the hows and whys of Mrs. Mellark's death (and the possibility of Prim being reaped as further punishment) to ourselves. Safer for everyone that way.

I'm not much use in taking down the clotheslines, so after giving him a brief hug, I head back inside. Hazelle is now in the kitchen, and I help her and Prim pack up pots, pans, cups and plates. We get them all sandwiched between rough old rags and put in a washtub, ready to be carried up the path to Rory's house. As we pack, Hazelle casually begins a conversation I had been nervous about since the last night of the games

"I can't say I'm surprised by the rumor I heard from Mrs. Scot the other day." She's nonchalant.

"Um..." I find myself tongue-tied and panicked. "Gale didn't say anything?"

"He did, once I asked him. Katniss, you two don't have to hide this from anyone."

"Thanks." I'm hoping she'll drop the topic.

She pauses as she wedges more dishes into a washtub. "I'm happy for you two. I always expected you to end up together. I'm glad you opened yourself up to someone." I'm relieved that this conversation is less awkward than the one with my mother. "You're good for him, Katniss. I've always said that."

I blush. Everyone expected this relationship except me.

As Hazelle carries the washtub to the front room, I poke my head out the back door, where Gale is wrapping up the lengths of rope. "Gale, do you need me to pack anything?"

He shakes his head, then carries the ropes inside and stows them in a box. Hazelle comes back to the kitchen. "Gale, you need to pack. Everything else is ready to go."

He looks at me and his mom, then the floor. "I'm not going."

"WHAT?" Hazelle, Prim, Vick and I say it in unison.

Posy runs to her brother, hugging his legs. "No, Gale, you _have_ to go with us. Where will you live?"

He bends to hug her. "I'll live right here, Posy. I'm a grown up now and should probably live on my own."

Usually in District 12, people stay with their parents until they get married. I would say most marriages happen between the ages of 18 and 20...there's always a flurry after the reaping each summer as a new generation of 18s breathe a sigh of relief that they've escaped. When you get married, you're assigned a house. But there are other ways to get assigned a house. Anyone over 18 can request one. Those requests are low on the priority list, and usually reserved for people with supervisor roles in the mine. If you have a baby and no job, you automatically get assigned a tiny house in the bad part of the seam. The only way out is to marry someone with a better house. And, of course, the merchants get the apartments above their stores when they inherit the businesses. I suppose you could also buy your own house, but it would be prohibitively expensive, like buying a business. But the Hawthorne's house in the seam will still technically be assigned to Hazelle. Gale really could live there.

Hazelle purses her lips and stares hard at her son. "What's this about, Gale?"

He looks at the ground again and mutters "I'm not giving the Capitol the satisfaction."

"The satisfaction of what, Gale? Of knowing you're in a safe house where you have enough food? The satisfaction of being with your family?" Hazelle is furious and slightly panicked.

Gale changes tactics. "Mom, I know how many bedrooms there are there. I know Rory's not going to share a room. Posy gets her own. You get your own. So that leaves Vick and I to share. He needs his space and so do I." He addresses Vick. "You want your own room, right, buddy?"

"Yeah..." Vick looks tempted, but cautious.

Exasperated, Hazelle grabs Gale by the arm and takes him into the back bedroom. The rest of us begin moving things to the large wagon in the front yard, catching snatches of conversation.

"You can't just spring things like this..." Hazelle sounds infuriated.

"...has to happen eventually..." Gale is pleading with her.

"...and if I catch wind of you behaving otherwise..."

"...not letting a 13-year-old be in charge..."

Finally Hazelle storms out yelling "maybe Katniss can talk some sense into you, because I sure can't." She looks at me apologetically and sighs. "If we kept going, one of us was going to say something we regretted...you'll stay awhile with him today, right? I figure he'll want to come with us in a couple weeks, he just needs to get this out of his system." Then she looks at me with a bit of a smile. "I know you. I know you're not going to let him walk all over you...but don't give in and cook for him or help him out too much. The boy needs a reality slap."

Good thing I'm a terrible cook. I wouldn't be helpful anyway.

I smile back, again thankful that Hazelle and I understand each other, and turn back to the house. Gale is standing in the door, watching his family as they tow the wagon in the direction of the victors' village. "Let's see if the fence is off, Catnip." Clearly he's trying to avoid talking about what just happened.

We trudge toward the fence, hand in hand, the late afternoon sun warm on our shoulders. As we near the fence, however, we again hear the distinct hum of electricity. Gale swears under his breath, and we head back to his house.

Inside his house is cool and dark, and we munch on the bread, cheese and tomatoes I had brought to school for lunch. I'd been too upset to eat. We're almost done with the meal when I realize I have just done exactly what Hazelle warned me against. I'm angry with myself, but angrier at Gale. I know we have to talk about the decision he's made, and I'm somehow supposed to change his mind. I also know Gale, and I know that him changing his mind is an unlikely event. If only I understood why he decided this to begin with.

I choose to start with that question. "Gale, why are you staying here?" My voice is quiet, and I'm trying to avoid eye contact. I'm frustrated with him. I had been relieved at the idea of Gale living in the victors' village in a safe house with a full pantry. The fact that he's rejecting this is beyond my understanding.

He stares at me. "I would think you, of all people, would get it." He sounds slightly annoyed.

"Well, make me understand, Hawthorne!" I'd spent most of my day on the verge of tears, and whatever Gale is up to has me on edge.

He leads me to the couch, and sits next to me putting his hand on my knee. "Catnip, you heard what Haymitch said this morning. We're powerless. Sitting ducks. I can't take anything from them. It would feel like they won. Like I'm dependent on them."

"Gale, we're all dependent on them. They make sure of that. Stop being so stubborn." My voice is getting higher. I imagine him all alone down in the seam.

"I know, but even moreso. If I stay here, at least I won't be confronted with it all, day in, day out. At least here, I could at least pretend it wasn't happening and wait things out until you decide to leave the district with me. Plus, it's closer to the mine, I only have a week or so left before I have to go back."

The mine.

I had just assumed all along that once Rory won, Gale would quit the mine permanently. How foolish of me. Gale would never let someone else support him. Especially not his little brother. Gale is too prideful, too headstrong. I feel the world crashing down around me again, but this time I'm facing the fact that not only are both Prim and Gale in danger, but I feel the tiny emotional window I've opened to Gale slamming shut. This is _why_ I've guarded my heart so closely through the years. And now I'm back where I started, with Gale going deep below the earth, minutes from death at any given moment. I burst into tears.

"Catnip, it will be OK."

"No, Gale, it won't. I can't spend the rest of my life worrying every day if you're all right down there. I just can't."

I stand to leave, and he grabs my arm, spinning me toward him. He's stayed sitting, so I'm standing looking slightly down into his face. He puts his hands on my waist and stares at me intently.

"The rest of your life?" He repeats my words, a small smile on his face.

I pause, realizing what I've just said. On one hand, it's true. Regardless of my relationship with Gale, if he is down in those mines, I will worry about him for the rest of my life. On the other hand, is what I've said misinterpretable? Have I inadvertently told him I'd marry him or something?

Sensing my discomfort (and knowing my tendency to run), Gale tightens his grip. "Catnip, how long are you planning for this to happen? Us?"

I look down at my feet. "I don't know, Gale." Then at his eyes, as my courage returns. "How long were _you_ planning to have me as your girlfriend_?_" I throw his question back at him.

He stares at me intently. "Katniss, I was planning to have you as my girlfriend until the day you agree to marry me. Then you'll be my wife. I don't care if it's a year or a lifetime." He pulls me closer so I'm sitting in his lap, and kisses my hair. "I know you're not ready for that, and that's fine with me. But I feel like you should know that."

I'm too shocked to run or even process the conversation we've just had, so I simply lay my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. I whisper the only thing that comes to mind. "Gale, don't go back to the mine." It comes out as more of a whine than a request.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Catnip, what will I do then? I'm not going to sit around all day. There's only so much hunting I can do to support myself. I can't work with you at the apothecary..." He trails off, and I'm sure he's thought this through repeatedly.

"What if Haymitch and Peeta find a store for you to open?" The idea comes to me suddenly, and I realize it's an ideal solution. Gale could move to town. I'm sure there's something he could do. Peeta had mentioned opening a hotel, another clothing store or a store that sells farm animals. Not that Gale has an aptitude for any of those things, but I'm sure we can make it work. I can help him. I'm taking bookkeeping classes, and I've watched my mom successfully run the apothecary for almost a year.

"I don't want anything from the Capitol, or the Capitol's money." He shoots my idea down before it can even solidify. All of the emotions of the day, heck, of the past couple of weeks or so, burst out of me. I sob into his shoulder, conscious that Gale is the only person in Panem I'd allow to see me this way. "Is this really that important to you, Catnip?" He asks the question gently and thoughtfully. I nod.

We sit in silence as my sobs quiet again. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess." I say the words into his shoulder.

"You're not a mess. The world is a mess." After a few minutes he breaks the silence. "This is probably a bad time to try kissing you, huh?"

I laugh through my sobs, imagining how I look with red eyes and messy hair, as well as my dry mouth from crying. Not exactly kissable. I walk to the sink and grab some water from the tap in my hand and slurp it up (Gale, of course, has no cups left). "You really didn't think this through, did you?"

He looks around and starts chuckling himself. "No, I did not."

"You have no food...no dishes..."

"No soap to clean the dishes if I had them."

"No towels if you took a bath." Something leaves my mouth that's half sob and half laughter.

"There's not even sheets on the bed. Good thing I sleep on the couch." He's joined me in my laughter.

"Your mom told me not to help you. Said you needed to figure it out yourself." He calms down at this. The gravity of his impulsive decision has just hit him.

"So I should probably start figuring this out." He looks outside. The sun is setting over the mountains, and the world is glowing with the sunset. "And you should probably get home before your mom gets mad." Gale hugs me one last time and we share a short kiss. "Come by so we can go hunting tomorrow, Catnip. Apparently I have a lot of trading to do." And with that, I head home.

* * *

But the fence is still on the next day. And the day after. Gale trades some pelts and plants (that he already had) around town for the bare essentials for "his" house. Taking Hazelle's advice, I tag along, but refuse to help him out. He doesn't press the issue. We catch a few private moments when he walks me to my door each night, but we're both preoccupied.

Even though he's still living in the seam, Gale spends a great deal of time in the Victors' Village. He explains that Rory is struggling since his return. He's up most of the night with nightmares, and is cranky and unpleasant during the day. He's been yelling at his mother and refusing to cooperate, barricading himself in his room. Prim tries to visit once, but comes home in tears when Rory refuses to see her. Hazelle hopes that having Gale around will help Rory, but Gale is doubtful. Rory is wounded and angry, a bad combination. Haymitch's drinking is beginning to make sense.

A few days after the media people have left town, Gale picks me up from school, and I accompany him, Vick and Posy up the hill.

"Will Katniss be hanging out with us at our house?" Posy asks, grabbing my hand.

"Maybe later, sweetie. I need to go talk to Peeta." I eye Gale over her head. We hadn't discussed the fact that one of us needed to tell Peeta about our relationship, and that person should probably be me. Gale bites his lip, but nods, knowing that the conversation is inevitable.

"Which one is Peeta? The smelly one or the one that makes cookies?" Posy's analysis of the other victors sends us all into a giggling fit, even serious, quiet Vick.

The Hawthornes disappear into Rory's house, and I knock on Peeta's door.

He answers much in the same way he answered last fall the first time I visited. His eyes are sunken and he's covered in paint. So much has happened to him in the past year, and he looks older than 17. But he's still Peeta, so he greets me with a hug and ushers me into the kitchen and offers me some chilled tea from his refrigerator.

"I'm glad you came by. Bannock went back home yesterday to help my dad and Nick." He draws a ragged breath. "It's hard."

I nod, thinking of my own father's death. I know too well. And I can't think of anything to say. Not inside, where the Capitol could be listening. I gaze around the kitchen. There's a plate of cookies on the counter, and several loaves of bread on top of the oven. Cheese buns are piled on the counter, a half-decorated cake is in the corner. "Is this what you do all day? Bake and paint?" I try to imagine a life with so many empty hours.

"Yeah." He looks around. "The cake is for the bakery. I'm helping my dad. Posy and Vick like sugar cookies, and Haymitch doesn't eat unless I bring it over...I guess I just try to stay busy."

His eyes tear up again, and I walk over and give him an awkward side hug. "We'll have to all visit more often." I try to say it cheerfully.

"Will you even come...since Gale's living down in the seam still?"

I study Peeta's face, trying to figure out how much he knows. "Of course I'll come. You're my friend. And I'll bring Madge and Delly. And Prim will be up here all the time, too. She'll visit." I pause, knowing that I have to tell him about Gale and I.

"What aren't people telling me, Katniss?" Somewhere in the past few months, Peeta has become unarmingly straightforward.

We sit on the couch and I begin, "I wanted to tell you myself, and Haymitch agreed that it would be a good idea." I suddenly can't look him in the eyes. "Um...Gale and I are..."

"Together." He finishes, matter-of-factly. "I figured it would happen eventually." Of course he did. Everyone but me did.

"Everyone just thought it would be better coming from me."

He looks a little sad, but it could just be the strain of the past week. "People don't have to act like I'm so thin-skinned. I can handle it. Everyone has tip-toed around me since I got back. At first I thought it was about my mom, but then I realized it was probably about you and Gale."

"How did you figure out it was that?"

"Bannock saw you guys kissing a few days ago."

Oh. The back porch of the apothecary is not as private as I'd previously thought. "Sorry about that." A feeling of shame washes over me. We should have been more discreet, more sensitive to Peeta's feelings. He's already been through so much lately.

"So what changed? I thought you were never falling in love or getting married."

I pause for a moment to think about it. I almost wish I could pick a moment where things changed and tell Peeta that it had been a conscious decision, a choice. But I can't. I mean, there was the moment in the woods, where I felt that pang of jealousy. Or the moment I grabbed his hand at the reaping. But it really wasn't a choice or a decision. It just happened, slowly over time, almost without my knowledge or permission. I settle for a shrug. "Well first, it's not _love._ He's my boyfriend. Nothing more. But as to when...I can't really say...it just...happened."

He nods. "What's funny is that while we were in the Capitol, I had come to the conclusion that you were right. That love wasn't worth it. I gave up on the whole idea."

Now I'm confused. "But I saw you on the news..."

With a sigh and a wave of his hand, he dismisses it. "That's...victor stuff. Nothing real." A heavy silence fills the room, but Peeta pierces it with another straightforward question. "Are you happy?"

_Am I happy?_ Such a loaded question. I flash back to the day Gale and I sat on my old back porch in the seam and had the same conversation. "I'm not sure I believe in happiness. Or at least not in the 'I found the path I'm supposed to take, and now everything is wonderful' happiness that everyone else seems to believe in. Or in the 'this is my soulmate' way that the girls at school believe in."

"Well, I'm not sure it's just one path or one person. Watching my dad grieve...I still don't think my parents were ever truly in love, and they certainly weren't soulmates. But they found happiness together. And he's devastated that she's gone, but I think he'll still be happy someday. Even alone. There are a million ways to be happy, you just have to let yourself."

I realize in that moment how lucky I truly was. I never had a doubt in my mind that my parents loved each other. My mother lit up every time my father came in the room. His eyes sparkled when she greeted him. When they fought, it was gentle and kind, and never lasted long. But then when he died... "My parents did love each other, and it nearly killed my mom when he died. I don't want that to be me."

"You're stronger than that, Katniss. Even if the world exploded, I feel like you'd crawl your way back and find something to live for. "

I nod, but I'm ashamed again. I came here to break the news to him and comfort him in his time of need. But here Peeta was, comforting me, encouraging me. I give him a tight hug. "Thank you. For being you. For always giving me hope. Even if I'm with Gale, you're a good friend, and I'm glad you're in my life."

He smiles for real then. "Let's go check on our newest victor. Shall we?"

It's my first time at the Hawthornes' new home in the Victor's Village. Posy is excited to give me a tour. Our last stop (after her bright pink bedroom) is Rory's room. I hear mumbled conversation from the other side of the door; Gale's deep voice and Rory's adolescent squeak. "I don't go in there. Rory doesn't like it." Posy makes an exaggerated face. When I knock, she shrieks and runs away downstairs.

Gale opens the door, taking in the view of Peeta and I on the landing. His eyes go wide and he looks at me questioningly.

"I talked to him. We have an understanding."

We spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out with Rory. Rory is still shell-shocked, and his eyes are bloodshot. He hesitantly accepts gentle teasing from his brother and Peeta. As I leave, he gives me a hug and thanks me for teaching him to swim.

"You saved my life, Katniss." He whispers it to me. I hug him back, and despite the fact that he's taller than me, I feel like I'm hugging a small, wounded child. I hold onto him for a minute and he says quietly "Is Prim mad?"

"She's not mad, Rory, she's worried and hurt. She says you sent her away and won't let her come back."

"I'm sorry. Can you tell her I'm sorry? Maybe you and Gale can come back with her sometime?" There are tears in Rory's eyes.

* * *

**A/N: This is one of those moments I wrote myself into a corner with Rory's win...there's no way Gale would ever let his little brother support him, right? Stupid, sexy Gale, screwing up my story. And being all hot and stuff. **


	19. For You

On Saturday, I wake at dawn and knock on Gale's door. We creep down to the fence, only to discover that it's still on. Without talking, I know that we're thinking the same thing. Something is off...something big. The fence has never been on for this long before. Not only that, but we both desperately miss hunting. And Gale is supposed to go back to the mines on Monday...if there's no hunting, there's no hope of him changing his mind about that. He has no other way of supporting himself.

We get back to Gale's house as the sun is rising. I look around the tiny space, and it's clear that Gale has been on his own for almost a week. Dishes are piled in the sink, and flies circle lazily around them. His clothes are strewn about the house, his bed is unmade, and a layer of coal dust has already collected on the furniture. I sigh. "Gale, you know I'm not supposed to be helping you, but..."

He looks around. "Should I clean up?" His boyish innocence would be comical if the scent of spoiled milk wasn't coming from his sink.

"I think so...if you'd like visitors..." I refuse to hang out at his house if it smells like this.

Heeding Hazelle's words, The only work I do is to dust off his couch so I can sit on it and entertain him with stories of Buttercup's latest adventure (where the cat attempted to fight one of Prim's chickens and lost) and gossip from Greasy Sae. In about an hour, the house is looking marginally better, and the oozing filth around the kitchen sink has been cleaned up. Gale sits next to me on the couch, his arm around me. I lean my head on his shoulder.

"So now what, Catnip?" Gale has the same problem I do; he's never had a lot of free time either, and has no clue how to fill an entire Saturday without hunting.

"I don't know. Maybe we should grab Prim and visit Rory?" The words no sooner cross my lips, than Gale's mouth is on mine. "Or that" I say with a grin when he pauses for a moment.

Gale and I have kissed a bunch of times, but it's mostly been small pecks or stolen moments in back of the apothecary. For the first few minutes, I'm still fighting the anxious part of me that wants to run, but I eventually lose myself in the kissing. A pleasant warmth fills me, and I begin to enjoy the tingling in my limbs. If this is what I've been avoiding all this time, maybe it's not so bad...

Suddenly, Gale's lips leave mine, and trail across my cheek, jaw, and down my neck. I freeze. He senses the change in my behavior and raises his head.

"What is it, Catnip?" His voice is husky and his eyes dark pools.

"Well..." I'm not sure how to have this conversation. I'm not sure what he _wants_, but if it's sex, I'm absolutely sure I'm not ready for that. And I'm not sure what I want. How far I want this to go. My mother's lecture from the other day flits through my head. "I'm just not sure...I feel like we should talk about..." I'm stammering. Images of the rumors about the slag heap follow my mother's words.

Then he laughs. Actually laughs at my red face, messy hair and stammering. Seeing my annoyance at his laughter, he pauses and adopts a more serious tone. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I forgot that this was all new to you."

"I'm not having sex with you, Gale." My face is probably almost purple, and my cheeks are burning. I should have known there were expectations. He'll probably break up with me...

He laughs again. "Catnip, I wasn't trying to get you to have sex with me. I got a little carried away, and I promise it won't happen again." He pulls me into his arms. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We can take things slow."

My neck still burns where he kissed it. "I just don't want you to be disappointed with me." It's easier to talk into his shoulder than to his face.

He kisses my hair. "I could never be disappointed in you."

Then I find myself admitting something that sends shots of electricity through my core and a blush to my cheeks. "I kind of liked it." I feel like Prim, admitting that she liked it when Rory held her hand.

Gale gets a devilish grin on his face, a new grin I don't recognize. "Is Katniss Everdeen actually admitting she likes kissing me?" And his lips are on mine again, only briefly before he whispers "you tell me if we're moving too fast," then he kisses me again. And I feel that warmth growing inside of me, making it more difficult by the moment for me to stay detached.

Eventually there is a rapping at the door, and Gale reluctantly gets up to answer. While I'm straightening my braid (which Gale has a maddening habit of unwinding), I hear Prim's voice asking for me.

"Katniss said I should try again with Rory, so I was hoping we could all go visit." I'm proud of my sister for refusing to give up on her friend. Then she adds "and mom figured out the fence was on, and she didn't want you hanging down here all day."

I roll my eyes. Gale raises his eyebrows. "Your mom is...strict...all of a sudden."

Luckily Prim interrupts us before I have to explain the awkward conversation I had with my mother. "Let's go!" We walk up the path, Gale and I hand in hand, as Prim flits in front of us, pausing to pick a few of the tiny yellow roses for which she was named. The past few weeks have been hard on her, but I'm glad to see that she remains free-spirited despite what she's seen and heard.

When we knock on the Hawthornes' door, it's answered by Vick. By the looks of the front room, he's been working on Science homework. A half-finished poster about coal mining safety is propped up against an armchair. From the kitchen, I can smell Hazelle's cooking. It smells like stew. The meat is likely from the butcher; since Gale and I haven't been hunting, fresh game hasn't been available. I find myself once again longing for the woods.

Posy hears us enter the house and comes flying down the stairs. "Prim, Prim!" She runs into Prim's arms. Prim picks her up and kisses her on the head. Posy's hair is done in a pair of braids, mirroring Prim's favorite hairstyle.

Hazelle emerges from the kitchen. "I'm not sure who has been looking forward to seeing Prim more, Rory or Posy." We all smile as the tiny girl begins to pull Prim upstairs to see her new room. Hazelle offers us some lunch, and we gladly accept. Soon, everyone (including Rory) has crowded into the kitchen. The beef stew and bakery bread disappear quickly, and Hazelle shoos us all outside.

I hear Rory whisper an apology to Prim, and she accepts, a quiet grin on her face. All is right in her world; her belly is full and her friend is safe. I will do anything to protect her from the knowledge that she may be in danger. I've learned over the years how to pretend. How to convince everyone around that things are OK. Whether it's hiding what I really think of the government, my mother's neglect, or my secret trips outside the fence, pretending is what I do best. I look to Gale, who is also watching Rory and Prim. We share a look. He'll pretend, too. To keep them safe.

The younger kids begin a game of tag, and Gale and I sit on the back porch to watch. Rory looks a little better. At least he's outside, and he almost giggles a couple of times. I think back to Peeta a year ago, and remind myself that his recovery is going to be slow. But playing with his siblings and Prim, he looks like he could almost be a normal kid on a Saturday afternoon.

Peeta and Haymitch walk around the corner and sit down with us. We watch the kids playing for awhile. Peeta breaks the silence. "He's still got a few years left to be a kid. Finnick says they'll treat him like a mascot until he turns 16."

Haymitch agrees, but his face is grim. "As long as the kid learns when to keep his mouth shut."

Eventually, Posy pulls Prim inside to play "remake center" – a game she made up after hearing about Rory's Capitol makeover. Vick follows behind to finish his science project, and Haymitch suggests that the 3 victors, Gale and I "take a walk."

We pause on the path halfway to town, and sit in a circle in the grass. I find myself between Gale and Peeta. We sit awkwardly, realizing how much is unsaid amongst the five of us. Until this point, Haymitch has been the unofficial leader of our little group, but Rory starts this time.

"They want to know how I learned to shoot." At least he gets to the point quickly. All eyes are on me.

"Well, that explains why the fence is on." I'm not sure why I feel the need to state the obvious, but I had to break the silence somehow.

"They'll turn it off eventually. But they'll be watching. You two need to be careful." Haymitch gestures between Gale and I.

Yeah, that's what we're known for. Our caution and restraint. And our ability to follow the law.

"We know the peacekeepers. Once the fence is off, we'll be fine." Gale dismisses Haymitch's concerns.

Haymitch looks grim. "I suggest that the two of you ask your mothers what happened after I won. Peacekeepers are easily replaceable. So are miners. And 17-year-old girls. Especially when they're known to spend a lot of time with victors and the mayor's daughter."

I think of the whispered conversation between my mother and Mr. Mellark the night his wife died. _Again_. She had used the word again. Something like this had happened before.

"So you're saying we shouldn't hunt anymore?" I ask the question even though I have no intention of staying inside the fence. Yes, Gale's family could survive without him hunting, but mine would be barely scraping by. And Gale would have to move in with his family. And frankly, neither of us would emotionally survive without the freedom of the forest.

Peeta chimes in "we all know the chances of that happening." All 3 victors nod. Haymitch knows us at least vaguely from the Hob. Peeta and I have spent a lot of time together for the past year, and he knows me better than anyone but Gale. And Rory, of course, is alive today because of Gale's hunting. They know we won't stop ducking under the fence.

"What I'm saying is that you need to have a plan for when you get caught. The consequences won't be pretty." I note that Haymitch says _when_, not _if_ we get caught.

Gale and I look at each other. "We have a plan." He says it confidently. "We leave. We make a life somewhere in the woods where the Capitol can't find us."

Haymitch guffaws. "Yeah, 'cause the Capitol would never do anything like track you through the woods and cut out your tongues." I think of the couple we saw a few years ago as we hid in the woods. A hovercraft had killed the man and captured the woman.

"Then we'll disappear before we get caught." Gale is dead serious.

"Great. These two over here are leaving us to run a rebellion on our own. Plus, we get to explain to the peacekeepers why two of their biggest suspects have disappeared." Haymitch's sarcasm is grating on my nerves.

"I'm not leaving until Prim's past reaping age." I say it to remind Gale, but Peeta pales. He thought we were joking before.

"Fine, so we have 5 years to make the rebellion happen before Gale and Katniss leave." Rory surprises us all by bringing up the real reason we're talking. Maybe his anger can be directed somehow toward that, instead of everyone else around him.

"Three." Peeta says it quietly.

I'm confused. "Why three?"

Peeta looks panicked, and Haymitch subtly shakes his head at him. "I just think it's better for it to happen sooner rather than later." It's clear that Peeta is lying.

Haymitch changes the subject. "We talked about a plan a few months ago. I've run it by the other districts, and they're on board It's time to start preparing."

"Um...can someone fill me in?" I had spent that meeting ignoring the conversation and worrying about Prim. I don't know what the plan is. And I'll bet Rory doesn't know either.

Annoyed, Haymitch reviews. "Gale and the other miners will sneak explosives to the tracks about 3 miles out of town, starting this fall. You and Gale are in charge of detonating them when the time comes. There are crews set up to overtake the peacekeepers and take over the justice building. And some other things."

"I agreed to this?"

"Gale did."

I look at my boyfriend. He raises his eyebrows. This is a conversation we'll have to have later. If rebellion is really happening, I have to be there to keep Prim safe, not gallivanting through the woods blowing things up. I know I was distracted after the Quell card was read, but he can't be making agreements on my behalf.

For awhile longer, we discuss sparks and plans. Haymitch insists that they will force a spark if it doesn't happen soon. District 8 is rebuilding, but they're under increased pressure from the Capitol. District 4 has kept things under control, but District 11 has been disorganized and disrupted. I hate this; I hate relying on other people, other districts. Right now I'd almost rather go with Gale's plan to just leave the district, if it weren't for Prim.

Prim and I walk home that night, and she hums happily. It's worth staying, if only to keep her safe.

* * *

Sunday is Gale's last day before he goes back to the mines. My mom has me working in the apothecary until 5, and I'm furious with her. I spend most of the day slamming things around the shop while Gale grins at me from the table, amused by my annoyance. At least we get to spend the day together, even if it's not doing what we want. Well, what we really want is to be out hunting, but the fence is still on.

Eventually my mom lets me leave, and we head back to the Victors' Village to check on Prim, who has been spending the day with Rory. Prim and Rory are out in back of the house, and Rory is teaching her some sort of game with a ball. They're giggling and playfully shoving one another. It's a welcome change.

Hazelle serves dinner, and everyone is cheerful as we eat except me. I keep thinking about Gale going down to the mines again the next day. I push the potatoes and ham around on my plate. I can't possibly understand how the rest of the Hawthornes can eat so calmly and happily when Gale is voluntarily returning to the very place that killed his father. Sensing my annoyance, Gale pulls me aside while Prim and Posy wash the dishes. In the empty study, he backs me up against the wall wordlessly, and kisses me forcefully. I wrap my arms around his neck as he leans down to me. I tingle from head to toe, and lose myself in kissing him back. Right now, he's here and safe. I momentarily forget about tomorrow, his siblings just outside the room, and my annoyance at my mother. His hands stay on my hips as we break the kiss.

"A little worried about tomorrow, Catnip?" I glare at him for disrupting the moment. He pulls me closer, and presses our foreheads together. "I promise I'll be fine."

"You can't guarantee that."

"I know. No one can." He kisses me again, more gently this time. "But I'll do my best to stay safe. Don't worry so much." He combs through my braid as we kiss.

My hair is wild and we're both breathless when, a few minutes later, Rory and Prim burst through the door. They catch a glimpse of our slightly guilty faces and both begin laughing.

"Hazelle said to go find you two so Katniss could walk me home. We have school tomorrow." Prim's eyes are full of merriment at my embarrassment.

"And I have work." Gale sighs, and kisses me one more time. "Goodnight, Katniss."

* * *

Monday I head to school with my heart in my throat. Gale is going back to the mines today. I feel as I did when he first started a year ago, but more intensely. Because now I had let him in and let myself admit how much I felt for him; how much I needed him. The night before I had again dreamed of the explosion that had killed our fathers, and Snow ordering another generation of Hawthornes vaporized.

I drag myself through the day, barely paying attention. School has never been too difficult for me, and I've learned over the years to skate through my classes while barely paying attention. Before Peeta's games, he and Madge had always been at the top of the class, and now Madge sits in that position alone. If I miss classwork or notes, I always know I can count on her to fill me in.

Madge and I walk out of school together at the end of the day, chatting about her growing relationship with Nick and mine with Gale. Despite Nick's tendency to prickle others at the worst possible moment, he sounds like a good match for Madge.

She interrupts my thoughts. "I thought you said Gale went back to the mines today."

"He did." I say miserably.

She grabs my arms and points. There, under a tree, bending to pick up Posy, is Gale. He's not covered in soot, he's not vaporized. When he looks up and sees me, there's a mischievous look in his eyes, and he puts Posy down so I can run into his arms.

"Surprised to see me, Catnip?"

"You said last night you were going back to the mines today."

"No, I said I was going back to work." He's enjoying teasing me.

"But where –" I'm interrupted by Posy.

"You fooled her, Gale!" Posy is jumping up and down with glee. Prim and Vick walk up as we're talking, both grinning themselves. This has been some sort of conspiracy.

"Well, Catnip, if I'm only supporting myself, I can take a job with shorter hours and less pay..."

I wrack my brain...he wouldn't have taken anything from the victors...what else is there in District 12? We begin walking up the path toward the Victors' Village, the children winding across the path in front of us, my hand in his.

Seeing my confusion, Gale fill in the blanks. "After you were so upset about the mines the other day, I knew I couldn't make you worry." He looks down at me. "For the rest of your life, or whatever..." He's grinning again. I blush at my own words. "When I was trading, I ran into Madge's dad, and he asked if I was going back to the mines. I told him I was, but then he offered me a job on the construction crew...fixing things up, helping build new stuff...the hours aren't steady. The pay isn't great. But if I can get back in the woods and hunt, I'll be fine. Then you don't have to worry."

I stop him on the path and let the kids run ahead. "You did this for me?" If there's anything I know about Gale, it's when he sets his mind to something (like going back into the mines), nothing and no one will change his course. Off the top of my head, I can't think of a single time, as long as I've known him, that Gale has willingly changed his mind. Taking a job from the district, a job usually reserved for family members of merchants is equally un-Gale like. But he's done it for me. I'm not sure what to say. "Gale..."

"Yes, for you." He bends down and kisses me.

He changed his mind for me. The thought makes me feel warm and safe.


	20. The Fence

The fence finally turns off on Wednesday night. Madge and I are at Peeta's (and Gale at Rory's) when the ubiquitous hum of the nearby generators suddenly winds down, leaving a deafening silence. I stand up in the middle of our chess game and run toward Rory's house. Gale meets me halfway and picks me up and twirls me around. It's dark, so we can't go out immediately (although we would if we could), but we make whispered plans as Gale walks me home. I can hardly sleep that night, nor sit still during school the next day.

Gale meets me outside of school, and we're almost giddy with anticipation about getting back out to the woods to hunt. I think of Haymitch's words about need a plan for _when_ we get caught, but I push them aside. For today, I just want to enjoy it. We try not to stand out while we walk through the seam to our spot in the fence. As soon as we crawl underneath, it's like the weight of the world is off of my shoulders. Our evening is long; there are snares to clear and berry patches to pick. We return to the district tired but happy, just as the sun is dipping below the mountain.

We're not the only ones who are happy. As soon as we set foot in the Hob to trade our game and fruit, we're mobbed by people who miss fresh game and foraged fruit. Even with Sae and Ripper living in town now, there are plenty of people willing to buy what we have brought back with us. We know that in the next few days we'll return to our door-to-door rounds in town, but for now our time in the Hob feels like coming home. As we're talking to Darius and Kendrick (the woman who makes preserves, but can't afford the fees to open her own shop), Gale casually puts his arm around my waist. It's a gesture that's become natural over the past few weeks, but Darius suddenly becomes silent. He nudges Aurora, one of the newer, younger peacekeepers. She giggles and whispers something to Kendrick.

It dawns on me: I had assumed that, thanks to Mrs. Scot, everyone in town already knew about Gale and I. But they didn't. Suddenly my face is hot. Sensing my discomfort (and the twitters spreading through the stalls around us), Gale leans down to my ear and whispers "you OK, Catnip?"

I take a deep breath and stand my ground. I hate being the center of attention or the subject of gossip, but the alternative at this point is to run, and that won't solve anything. The people at the Hob are going to find out at some point, it might as well be now. "I'm fine" I murmur back to Gale, and grab his hand to finish our trading. By the time our game is gone and we have food, spices and a handful of coins, we've gotten multiple winks and whispers.

As we walk out, Darius punches Gale lightly on the arm. "It's about time" he says with a wink in my direction. I'm pretty sure if I blushed any harder, I'd pass out.

* * *

The first time the fence turns back on, I'm out hunting alone. Gale has been working longer hours for a few days, so I'm not surprised when he doesn't meet me after school. In fact, all week I'd been hunting alone after school. It's a Friday, and the late October sun is bright enough to keep me warm as I hunt. Just as the sky is beginning to turn pink, I shoot a deer. A big deer. I'm not big enough to move it, so I decide to cover it as best I can and see if Gale is finished with work yet. Hopefully he can come help me drag it to the butcher's. If not, I just have to hope that the wild animals don't get to the carcass before tomorrow morning.

I stow my bow and head toward the fence. Gale's house is closest to the loose section of fence on the northwest side of the district (near the tiny homes assigned to single, jobless mothers), but town is nearer to the southwest section where there's a gap underneath. Hoping that he's done with work, and is simply heading to his house before he meets me, I decide to get back in the district closer to his house. At this time of day, the area will be busy with miners, but hopefully the activity will help me blend in. If he's not done yet, I can just wait at his house for him to get home.

As I near the fence, however, my heart drops. I hear the distinctive hum of electricity and inwardly groan. The fence has been on in years past, but it's usually been during the summer when the nights are warmer. And I'm usually with Gale. The afternoon is warm, but as the sun goes down, I know it will get chilly. I'm not dressed for a night outside the district. Furthermore, the last time the fence was on, it inexplicably stayed on for much longer than we expected. This time I'm outside the district and eventually my absence from school will be noticed and Darius might not be the peacekeeper sent to track me down. Especially because the Capitol still wants to know who taught Rory to shoot. Even if I'm not caught with my bows, I'm looking at the possibility of execution for leaving the district.

_Don't panic, Katniss._

I duck back into the trees to formulate a plan. We have a few blankets, matches and tarps stashed near our meeting place just in case something like this happens. I can rig myself a rough shelter, and if it gets too cold, light a fire. Any fire will have to be carefully lit and placed so that no one from town can see the smoke. I'll have no problems keeping myself fed, and even in the late fall there are plenty of plants to eat (along with the duck I have in my game bag). It will be uncomfortable, but I can make it. I'm silently grateful that it's Friday, because it means I have two extra days before my absence is noted by anyone but my mom, sister and Gale.

Sometimes peacekeepers patrol outside the fence, looking to catch trespassers. _Times like tonight_ I think, replaying the conversation with Haymitch in my head. I can only remember one time they succeeded. They shot the man without asking questions. I'll have to be extra careful to hide myself and my tracks.

Thankfully, our stash of supplies is still intact, and I quickly build a small shelter from branches and a tarp. I situate it so it blocks the wind, then light my campfire a safe distance away. I quickly sear the pieces of duck and eat my dinner near the fire. As dusk turns to night, I put the fire out and retreat to my little hut, missing Gale more every minute. A night like this would be an adventure with Gale; something we'd joke about later when we discussed leaving the district. But alone it's cold and uncomfortable. I huddle under my blanket and close my eyes.

As I lie, half asleep, I begin listening to the sounds around me. I've always found the sounds of the woods comforting. Even at this point in the fall, I can hear the last of the crickets. An owl hoots overhead, and in the distance I hear some coyotes (I pull my bow a bit closer when I hear the howl). Even the gentle "Oooh-oooh-ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh" of a mourning dove in the distance, then the sound of mockingjays imitating the sad-sounding song.

_Mourning doves_. _Until I was 10, I thought they were called _morning_ doves, because they almost always sang in the mornings. When I wrote a report about them, my father laughed and corrected my spelling. _

_"Kat, they're called mourning doves because their song sounds so haunting and mournful. It's just coincidence that they usually sing the morning." He'd said it with a kiss to my head and a smile._

It's not morning.

In the darkness, I clutch my bow closer and listen again. "Ooo-ooh-ooh...ooh, ooh, ooh." It sounds like the bird, but the sound has a different quality to it. Lower, more familiar. I think through the bird calls I've taught Gale over the years. They can be an effective way to communicate without scaring game.

Or alerting peacekeepers.

With my bow in hand, I creep toward the fence, near the area closest to his house. Rain has begun to fall, reducing my visual acuity. When I emerge from the woods, I search the backyards along the fence for a familiar figure. A twig snaps, and I swing my bow around to point toward the noise.

"Catnip, I'm not sure you can shoot me _through_ the fence." I have to stop myself from shouting his name as he whispers to me.

"_You_ might not be able to, but I could." I whisper it back, but I'm shivering from cold and relief. We each stand a few feet back from the fence on opposite sides. The yard Gale is standing in is behind an empty house, but I know we need to be quiet so no one hears us.

Gale is not in the mood to argue over who is a better shot (plus he knows it's me). "Katniss, you need to get back inside the fence. Rumor is that they're patrolling outside the fence tonight to see if they can catch whoever taught Rory to shoot. Darius mentioned that they might even be checking on the prime suspects to make sure they're inside the district."

If they check at my house, and I'm not there, they'll check at Gale's. When I'm not there, the peacekeepers will figure out that I'm not inside the fence and send an even bigger search party to look for me. Now. Tonight. I know I'm at the top of the list of suspects, and my house will be one of the first they check. I can stay out here and wait to get caught, or risk finding another way into the district. If Gale were out here with me, we'd probably run, but he's not, and I won't make it on my own. We work much better as a team.

We look up and down the length of fence until we find an area where a large tree leans over the fence. Its branches nearly touch the top of a house which is, luckily, empty. I stow my bow in its spot nearby and climb as high as I can before shimmying down the other side. There's a loud crash as I land on the tin roof, and I slide down the slope, unable to get purchase on the wet metal. Gale manages to catch me as I fall toward the ground.

We land in a heap on the ground, and the wind is temporarily knocked out of me. Gale is steady and warm beneath me, and he envelops me in a tight hug before we can even stand. As he helps me up, I mentally scan my body for pain or injury. Luckily, outside of my aching gut, I seem to be OK. We run as quickly as we can to Gale's house.

Once we're inside, he gathers me in his arms and kisses me. "I was just about ready to find a way over the fence myself to track you down." He's shaking, and I'm not sure if it's from cold or emotion.

"I'm fine, just cold." I know I should go back to my house because my mom is probably worried, but the idea of going back out in the rain to walk to town, and the possibility of dealing with peacekeepers on the way exhausts me. I'll just sleep on the couch here. She probably thinks I'm outside the fence still, anyway.

I light a fire in Gale's fireplace and grab a (hopefully clean) towel from the stack. Gale has disappeared into the bedroom, and emerges in a pair of flannel pants and a dry shirt. He hands me an extra set of clothes. While I'm changing, I hear him clanging around in the kitchen. I leave my hair down to dry, and put on the clothes he's handed me. The pants and shirt are similar to those Gale is already wearing, but are comically large on my slight frame. I pull the drawstring on the pants as tight as it will go, and they just barely stay up. I look at myself and contemplate just putting my own pants back on, but they're soaked. Finally, I bite back my pride and walk into the front room where Gale is sitting in front of the fire, 2 cups of tea on the table next to him.

When he catches a glimpse of me in his clothes, he chuckles. "You know, you could just wear the shirt as a dress, and drop the pants altogether, Catnip. I'm sure it's the fashion somewhere in the Capitol." He does the last part in his best Delly impression.

Even though Gale and I have spent most of our spare time together over the past few months, and our physical relationship has progressed, our clothes have stayed on. Sure, his hands have slipped under the hem of my shirt a few times to caress the bare skin on my back, but I'm not at a point where I'm comfortable wearing nothing but Gale's t-shirt. I realize that this is mainly due to my own shame and hesitancy around anything remotely sexual , but I'm not willing to give in and sit around without pants on.

Instead, I settle down into his lap with my cup of tea. He holds me close, and we slowly warm up. I tell him about setting up camp outside the district, and he tells me all about his day repairing roofs and knocking down a useless old building. His fingers comb their way through my hair, and I start drifting off to sleep again.

I'm jerked awake by a pounding on the door. We make eye contact, and Gale ushers me back into the bedroom before he answers the door.

"Gale Hawthorne?" The voice at the door belongs to a peacekeeper I vaguely know...I can picture his hawk-like face, but not his name.

"How can I help you?" Gale sounds mildly annoyed, and I silently will him to be cooperative for his own safety.

"We were by about an hour and a half ago. Where were you?" The peacekeeper is forceful and somewhat threatening.

"I was..." Gale's not good at coming up with explanations. "Why do you need to know?"

"We have some reports about people going under the fence. Your name came up. We saw some smoke from outside the district tonight, so we're double checking that everyone is where they should be."

Apparently my spot was not as hidden as I'd hoped.

"Well, I'm here. Have a good night." I can hear Gale trying to shut the door.

"Just assuring that you're home and inside the district. We're also looking for a Miss Katniss Everdeen. She is not at her house, and her mother indicated that she might be here." He sounds annoyed, and they've already been by my mom's house. She and Prim are probably worried sick.

At the door, Gale stumbles over his words. "Um, I was...we were..."

"Mr. Hawthorne, you know that leaving the district is an offense with severe consequences, correct?"

"Yes, I do."

"If we do not find Miss Everdeen tonight, she will be liable for criminal prosecution." That makes it sound like there will be a trial, and not just a bullet through my head.

Silence.

"Mr. Hawthorne, if you know Miss Everdeen's whereabouts and are not cooperative, you will also be liable for criminal prosecution." I know that Gale's hands are probably balling into fists, and I picture a peacekeeper shooting him. Panic threatens to overwhelm me.

_Think, Katniss, think. All they want is an explanation, and they'll leave you alone. _The thought comes to me, and I act before I can talk myself out of it. I undo the drawstring of the pants and let them drop, then walk into the front room.

Gale's eyebrows shoot up as I walk in the room wearing only his shirt (which thankfully covers me almost to my knees). I look directly at the peacekeeper. "We were...um...busy...the last time you came by." Luckily the blush on my face doesn't have to be manufactured, because I'm a terrible actress.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Can we help you?"

The peacekeeper-who-looks-like-a-hawk is flustered, and hems and haws for a second. "Miss Everdeen?"

"Yes." I narrow my eyes at him. "Is there a problem? I didn't know we were legally required to be in our own houses tonight." Technically, there's an official curfew in District 12, but no one has obeyed it in decades.

"We were just um...assuring that no one was sneaking past the fence...for safety reasons...it's probably not a good idea to be out and around at this time of night..." he refuses to make eye contact with me or Gale. "I will notify your mother that you're accounted for...she seemed worried."

Gale has re-gained his composure, and ushers the peacekeeper out the door. "Well, thank you for your concern." It's only a little sarcastic. He slams the door behind the peacekeeper and turns around to look at me, eyes wide. "Where did that come from, Catnip?"

I shrug. "It was the first thing I could think of. It worked, didn't it?" My bare feet fidget on the floor and I'm getting self conscious. "I'll go put some pants back on." My face has remained red.

When I return, now fully dressed, Gale is washing the tea mugs by firelight. I'm flooded by emotion. Gratitude that he called me out of the woods before the peacekeepers patrolled, relief that he didn't get himself into trouble, and fear that we've caught the attention of some of the less-friendly peacekeepers. I wrap my arms around him from behind and lay my cheek on his back, eyes closed. He finishes with the teacups and turns around to pick me up in a giant hug. I can tell he's thinking all of the same things.

"We should get some sleep, Catnip." He puts me down, but we stay embraced in the kitchen

"Do you have an extra blanket for the couch?" I keep my arms around him. I'm not ready to let go of him yet.

He sighs heavily. "No." I feel him kiss the top of my head, then he pauses, as if trying to find his words. "What I'm about to say has nothing to do with sex." He pauses and kisses my head again. "You can sleep in my bed with me."

The thought of letting go of him after the intensity of the past 2 hours sends a panic through my body, so I nod. "OK."

As we settle into the dark, he curls around me, holding me in his arms. I feel myself surrendering to the warm, safe feeling. As we begin to drift off to sleep, I suddenly remember something.

"Gale" I whisper, even though no one else is in the house.

"Katniss" he whispers back, echoing my slightly excited tone, and I can tell he's teasing me.

"I almost forgot. I shot a deer. Before I realized the fence was on. Hopefully it will still be there when the fence is turned off."

"Go to sleep, Catnip." But there's pride in his voice, and I can tell he's happy about the prospect of some fresh venison.

* * *

**A/Ns**

**1\. I am not a naturalist or an expert on birds and their calls. Don't judge me. **

**2\. If you shot a deer and left it in the rain, would it still be good the next day? These are the questions that keep me awake at night. **

**3\. I've actually spent a lot of time in rural Appalachia. Most of the roofs are tin, so I just assumed that the HG-area roofs are manufactured the same way. But there's been an apocalypse or whatever, so who knows? Just go with it. Tin roofs. **


	21. Love and Marriage

**A/N Sorry about the delay. You guys know a whole lot about dead deer! :) I have several chapters after this one written already, but this particular chapter has given me a lot of problems, then I got stuck on another project...anyway, I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but it gets us where we need to be. This may be edited later...if you have ideas, feel free to share!**

* * *

We're all anxious about Rory's Victory tour. Partially because we know it will bring more attention to District 12, and partially because Rory's behavior has gotten more angry and erratic. One day he will be nearly despondent, and refuse to leave his room. On those days, Prim and Peeta seem to be the only people who can reach him. Prim will bring schoolwork or a storybook over, and will sit in the comfortable armchair in his room, reading to him or talking softly. Some afternoons she simply sits silently so he's not alone as he buries himself under his duvet and shuts the world out. Peeta brings food (Rory is fond of berry-flavored tarts). They talk about (in Rory's words) "Victor Stuff" and keep the door closed.

On another day, Rory will be his old self. He's jovial and happy. He plays with Posy and jokes around with Vick. He and Prim might go for a walk or play one of the games Hazelle ordered from the Capitol. The Hawthornes will eat as a family, and Gale will stay there late into the night before returning to his cold empty house. Rory has been forced to pick a talent, something the Capitol can film to show how he spends his days. He's spent his good days trying out a variety of sports and watching videos of others playing them. In the Capitol, they pay people to play games so others can watch. Rory's favorite is soccer, where you kick around a little black and white ball. Prim is getting pretty good at it, too.

Then there are the days where Rory is angry. These days are like a violent spring thunderstorm: unpredictable, and they leave a path of destruction in their wake. Rory has always had a temper, but the games seem to have loosened his control over it. He'll yell at his siblings, Prim and Hazelle, and throw things around the house. Hazelle has begun leaving extra sheets and clothes at Gale's house, because on the angry days it's safer to take Posy and Vick back to the seam and allow Gale and Haymitch to manage Rory's rage. Gale isn't going with on the victory tour, and Hazelle worries that Peeta and Haymitch won't be able to deal with Rory's temper. Even more worrisome, his rages are becoming more frequent as the victory tour approaches.

The up and down of Rory's moods have been taking their toll on Gale. His hunting has become more sporadic, and he's considering moving into Rory's house so he doesn't have to go back and forth all the time. He's become crabby and short with everyone, even me. At first, I play the role of the understanding girlfriend. After all, I have no idea what he and Rory are going through. But I do get tired of his snappish behavior. Furthermore, since we've agreed not to leave the fence alone, I'm frustrated because although _he_ doesn't necessarily need to hunt, _I_ do, and we've agreed to only go as a pair.

It's mid December when I know that Rory is back in one of his moods because Gale and Hazelle are standing outside the school. Gale's scowl is harsher than normal, and Hazelle ushers the youngest Hawthornes down the path toward the seam. I have really been looking forward to hunting today, but one look at Gale's face tells me that it's not happening. Rory is having an angry day today.

I look at him, standing with his hands in his pockets gazing at the ground. "I wanted to go hunting today." As soon as the words leave my mouth I feel bad, but they're _true_ and I refuse to apologize for them. Gale glances up at me, sighs, and motions for me to walk with him. This is the time we get together lately...a 10 minute walk up the path to Rory's. Then I'm supposed to traipse back to town and spend my evening at Madge's. Except she mentioned that she's hanging out with Nick and Peeta up in the Victors' Village tonight, so I might as well head up there anyway. It's better than sitting alone in my room.

Frustrated with the whole situation (Rory's rage, the fence, and even Gale's dutiful attention to his family), I follow Gale up the path to Rory's house silently. He reaches for my hand, but I pull it away.

"C'mon, Catnip. You know I can't change it." I know deep down that I would be making the same choices in his situation. If Prim needed me, I'd drop absolutely everything to be there for her. But I'm still annoyed.

"I'll just go on my own." Even as the words leave my mouth, I keep walking with him down the path, away from our usual entry point to the woods. I don't mean it.

"No."

My annoyance is blossoming into anger. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean that I won't let you go out there on your own, possibly get caught and killed. There will be other chances." We pause in front of Rory's house. Gale's arms are crossed as he speaks, and there's a hard look in his eyes.

I'm furious.

"What do you mean, you won't 'let' me?!"

"I mean that if I have to make your family take food from us, I'll do it. You can't go out there by yourself. Not now."

"You're my boyfriend, not my keeper. I can do whatever the hell I want." I sound like a child. I sound like I'm arguing with my mother. But where does he get the nerve to tell me what to do? Forbid me from going and doing the exact thing I've done for six years? Cross his arms and tell me what to do? "You're not in charge of me."

"I'm not, but I care about you and I want you to take my feelings into account." I can tell he's holding his frustration in.

I cross my arms back at him, and my voice gets higher and louder. "Fine. You just go into Rory's house, spend time with Rory and Haymitch, and I'll go sit alone at home and wait for you like a doting girlfriend, twiddling my thumbs and starving to death." The curtains in Rory's front room twitch a bit.

"I told you I'd give you food." Gale is exasperated, and the volume of his voice has risen as well. "Katniss." My name suddenly sounds like a swear word as he looks at me and I furrow my eyebrows back at him. "Stop being so stubborn and listen to reason."

"I'm stubborn? I'M stubborn?" I'm fighting angry tears. All of the stubborn things Gale has done flood into my head, and I fight the urge to throw them back at him. "I'm going to see my friends." Before I can say anything I'll regret, I spin around and walk, not back toward town, but toward Peeta's, my braid flying.

Gale is yelling now. "Is this what you're going to do? Go running to Peeta every time you're mad at me?" I ignore him and keep walking. "Fine, have fun with Peeta!"

As I mount the steps to Peeta's house, I hear the door slam. Gale must have gone inside.

As I raise my hand to knock, the door flies open, and Madge lets me in. She, Nick and Peeta all look at me guiltily. They've been watching the entire interaction.

Without a word, Peeta hands me a cup of tea and a cookie, and gestures toward the fourth chair at the table. There's a delicious smell coming from the oven, and it looks like the three of them have been playing some sort of card game. I fling myself down and concentrate on nibbling around the design on the cookie, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. They awkwardly chit-chat about whatever Peeta is making (some sort of flat crust with cheese and vegetables that he learned about in the Capitol). Whenever I look up, one of them is staring back at me, hesitating and trying to figure out what to say. The room eventually gets thick and quiet with awkwardness.

We're sitting in silence when the front door bursts open. Haymitch strides into the room and points at me.

"You, outside, now."

I glare back at him. He raises his eyebrows. I catch Peeta looking back and forth between us, as if he's trying to figure out who will win the standoff. I finally sigh and get up from the table and follow Haymitch outside.

"What?" I cross my arms.

Haymitch's hair is greasy and he sways a bit as he leans against the railing on the porch. "Look Sweetheart, I'm not here to be a therapist or whatever...but I'm not going to put up with two angry Hawthornes, so your boyfriend is going to apologize, and you're going to accept it, and you're both going to make an effort to stop being so damn pig-headed." Then he hops over the railing, stumbles a few times in Peeta's front yard, and strides toward his own house.

"THIS ISN'T YOUR PROBLEM, HAYMITCH!" I yell across the road.

"YOU MADE IT MY PROBLEM, SWEETHEART" he yells back at me, then slams his door.

Furious at Gale, Haymitch and the entire situation, I stomp down the path back to my house.

* * *

It's hard to sleep. I'm fighting with competing emotions of anger, fear that Gale will want to break up with me, and hurt at what happened. As I lie in bed, counting the hours that pass, I realize that beneath my annoyance at the situation is some very real loneliness. This terrifies me. I've depended on Gale before; he's helped feed my family when I've been injured or sick, and I've done the same for him. But I've never emotionally depended on anyone since my father died. Feeling lonely without Gale (let alone lonely enough for it to affect my entire mood) is scary. Vulnerable.

I continue to toss and turn, occasionally drifting in and out of sleep, trying to figure out how to approach the situation.

Around 3:30 in the morning, I'm startled from my half-sleep by a creaking board. "Prim?" I whisper, even though it doesn't sound like her footfall.

"Katniss." The voice is male. Gale's frame fills the doorway, and he gently closes the door behind him as he slips into the room.

"What do you want?" I'm groggy, but manage to sound at least somewhat threatening. I hope.

He sits on the edge of the bed. In the moonlight, I can see bags under his eyes and feel the chill on his coat through the quilt. "Haymitch said I should apologize, or go screw myself."

I smile a little at Haymitch's suggestion. "And it was easier to just sneak into my house in the middle of the night?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"My mother is going to kill you if she finds you in my room." I pause. When it appears that Gale isn't going to leave, I sit up and lean back against the headboard. "Sleep isn't easy for me either. I just don't like being told what to do..." In my barely-awake state, I re-live my anger from earlier, but there's another emotion underneath. Perhaps I'm unable to feel it when I'm fully alert, or maybe our fight has brought out another facet of me. I'm...grateful...that Gale cares, and happy that he's come to apologize.

Gale leans his arms on his knees and stares at the ground. "When you said you were going to go out on your own, I wasn't thinking that I was telling you what to do...I was just thinking about how I can't lose you. How much I love you."

He pauses as if the words slipped out accidentally. I'm quiet as well. I'm not at a point where I want to use those words in return, but I feel like I have to say or do _something_. So I lean forward and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"I just miss you." When the words spill out of me, I realize what's been at the root of my bad moods lately. It's not missing hunting, it's missing _Gale_.

Silently, he reaches down and unlaces his boots, then removes his coat. He grabs me around the waist and pulls the quilt around us both as we lie down. Our faces are inches from one another, one of his hands is on the small of my back, the other at the base of my hair. Before he can kiss me, I cut him off. "But I'm not some weak little girl...I can make my own decisions. You don't get to tell me what to do, and I won't tell _you_ what to do. Got it?"

He nods and kisses the top of my head. Then my cheek. Then my lips. And we tangle together in my tiny bed. I feel the last of my defenses slowly slipping away, but I cling to them desperately because they're all that stand between me and what I fear the most. So when Gale's hand begin to wander and I feel a surge of warmth through my body, I gently pull away and whisper "we should sleep."

I drift off in his arms, and he's gone by the time I wake up.

* * *

On the day the victory tour begins, the fence is, of course, on. Gale and I have been extra careful since I got stuck outside, and Gale has begun listening closely to the peacekeepers' conversations as he works. I'm pretty sure that several of them purposefully talk louder whenever the work crew is around. As a result, he's usually aware beforehand if the fence will be on. Neither of us goes hunting alone any more anyway, and I'm grateful once again for Parcel Days, as they keep my family fed. I'm not sure what we'll do next year. Today, victory tour day, Gale is only working until 12, then he's expected to be up at Rory's house for a demonstration of Rory's new talent, and the send off. Prim, too, will be up there.

I sit bored in the apothecary, absently wondering if we'll meet about the rebellion when the victors return. A few merchants stop by to buy salves and remedies. Mostly, I just sit. I'd always thought of merchants as having a life of ease, but the more time I spend in the shop, the more I hate it. I'd rather be out hunting with Gale any day.

Madge stops by, equally bored. She climbs up next to me behind the counter and we sit in silence for awhile. Eventually, I notice a thin gold band on her left ring finger.

"Madge?"

"What?" She's paging through my mom's book of plants and remedies.

I gently touch the ring and raise my eyebrows. She grins back and me and flushes a little. We squeal like the teenagers we rarely are, and she rushes through the story. She and Nick will be married a week after graduation, and together they'll re-open the candy shop. Seven months is a long engagement in District 12, but Madge is the mayor's only child, and Nick is the brother of a victor, so their wedding will be much more elaborate than most.

"So Haymitch and Peeta bought the candy shop for you two?"

Madge looks confused. "New rules on land ownership for victors...they won't be allowed to open more shops." Her words suck the excitement out of the room. New rules for victors. A fence that's on more and more often lately. District 12 is becoming stricter by the month. We sit in grim silence for awhile. She absently adds "my mom has always owned it, she just hasn't been well enough to keep it open."

Finally, I notice which page Madge has open in my mother's book. It's the same page mom referenced during our awkward sex talk a few months before. I look at the carefully written recipe on the page: Queen Anne's Lace, Willow bark, Pennyroyal...all plants I regularly harvest for my mother. I trace my fingers over the picture that differentiates the lacy white flowers from poison hemlock in the late summer when both are in bloom.

"Are you and Nick..." I'm blushing furiously. "My mom has some sachets of that tea if you want it."

Madge is much more comfortable with discussing the tea. "We just don't want kids until after the wedding." She pauses, and says in a Capitol accent, "it wouldn't be proper."

"My mom sells a lot of it, so it must work."

"So you and Gale haven't..." I'm enormously uncomfortable at Madge's question.

"No, we haven't." I'm hoping she'll drop the topic, but as my thinking wanders to Gale, I know my face gives me away. More and more often lately, when Gale and I are together, I'm finding that my skin is tingling and my chest is warm. What I feel is something like hunger...a desire to fill a need. I don't like to _need_ anything. The more you need something, the weaker you are, the harder it is to survive. And if my body needs Gale, what does that mean? I think of last week, when his hands were well past the hem of my shirt, and I willingly straddled his lap to kiss him, surprising us both. Is sex where we're headed? Do I even _want_ to head in that direction? Gale has been more than respectful of my boundaries, but sometimes I feel myself wishing he would push a bit more and give me an excuse to stop being so strict with myself, my emotions, my body...

"Do you love him?" Madge has a hint of teasing in her voice.

As always, I deflect the hard questions back to the asker. "How do you know you love Nick?"

She thinks for a second. "I just do...I don't want to be without him. We're both better when we're together."

I think of Gale. The longer we're together, the harder it becomes to guard my emotions. I've finally admitted to myself that I'm attracted to him, that I want to spend all my time with him, that the thought of being separated from him makes me feel like the wind has been knocked out of me...but I've always pushed the possibility of love away from myself. But am I better with him? He challenges me to hunt, to fight (but he always has). He encourages parts of me that I didn't know I had. Parts that want to enjoy life, pause and be content, rather than just survive it. And do I make him better? I guess I stop some of his impulsive decisions and calm him down when he's angry. And he told me that he loved me.

Madge interrupts my thoughts again. "So do you love him?"

"I don't know. I don't really know if I really want to love anyone."

"I'm not sure you have a choice, Katniss. If it happens, it happens."

* * *

Rory is gone for almost 3 weeks for his victory tour. Prim fills the time with her friends and schoolwork, but she's mopey and sad while he's gone. I try to spend extra time with her, and we begin adding entries to my father's book of plants. Some days Gale joins us after he finishes work. With the cold weather (and no snow; when it snows Gale will be on the crew that shovels) there's not much work to be done around town. Gale's hours have been cut, and I know he's itching to be out hunting or doing _something_. But the fence remains obstinately on. After the first few days, we agree just to resign ourselves to the fact that it will be on until after Rory gets back. Maybe longer.

When I go to Madge's to work on homework, she tells me bits and pieces about her wedding plans. Because of her "status," it will be more elaborate than Madge really wants. They will do a traditional toasting, but it will involve a larger ceremony including attendants and decorations. Before he left, Peeta agreed to make the cake. Madge asks me to be her attendant, and to stand next to her during the ceremony and sign as a witness on the paperwork. I accept. She begins showing me pictures of dresses and decorations, but those don't interest me terribly. I tell her to pick what she'd like, and I'll wear whatever.

When Gale and I do get a few moments together alone, I often find myself wondering about my feelings for him. I know on some level that I love him; but I'm not sure what to make of it. The real question I'm asking myself is if I'm _in love_ with him. And I'm not sure. Letting myself open up that deep part of myself is still terrifying. He hasn't said the words since the night after our argument, and I know he's waiting for me to say it back. The question, of course, is whether I want to.


	22. Rory's Return

**A/N I think I mentioned before that I'm a professor. And it's finals. Trust me, it's as bad for us as it is for you. Updates will be quicker once this week is over! Sorry about the delays!**

* * *

Rory, Peeta and Haymitch return on a still-snowless but cold afternoon, and the Capitol people (with the help of Gale and his crew) set up the same stage and heaters they used the year before. As night falls Prim and I dress in our nicest clothes, and head to the square for dancing and food. This morning, Prim used some sort of curling tool to turn my straight hair into a mass of fluffy curls, a trick she learned from Delly. She was so proud of herself that I couldn't bear to braid it like I normally do, so it's still down. I feel self-conscious and vulnerable without my hair tied back.

Rory and Prim dance for the cameras. Soon Effie ushers us into the area near the stage for more on-camera dancing: Gale and I, Madge and Nick, Delly and Peeta. I'm sure they decided long ago that Haymitch was too unpleasant for events like this, but they need a crowd, so they've incorporated the siblings of the victors. Eventually the younger kids join us, giggling behind their hands at Rory and Prim. Prim is chatting away cheerfully, but Rory's face is void of emotion. We haven't had a chance to see him much since they returned, and I hope he hasn't returned as dejected as Peeta returned the previous year.

Eventually, Gale, Madge, Nick and I duck away from the cameras and set ourselves around a table at the edge of the square with plates full of food, much of it brought in from the Capitol. Peeta gives an earnest speech about District 12, and there's scattered applause. I admire his ability to speak publicly but I can't help but notice that they have not had Rory speak tonight. In fact, now that I think back over the mandatory viewings during the past few weeks, I realize that Rory has given, at most, clipped, simple addresses, obviously (and carefully) choreographed by Peeta or Effie. Nothing personal or heartfelt, even in Districts 3 and 4. He's being kept out of the spotlight as much as possible, which is hopefully good for Prim.

As we sit around the table eating, Michel, Gale's foreman approaches. He looks slightly agitated, but I don't dwell on that. He might just be a twitchy person. "Hawthorne" he addresses Gale "shift starts at 6am tomorrow. Extra projects. Don't be late." He seems to suddenly notice Madge sitting with us and nods in her direction, slightly panicked. She rolls her eyes. She hates when people treat her different because of her father's position.

As he retreats, Nick quips "Better not be late, Hawthorne, or he'll have a stroke." Madge and I giggle, but Gale simply stares at him. They've reached a grudging acceptance of one another, but apparently not enough of one to joke around.

"I should get home then to sleep. Walk you back, Catnip?" My house is only a block down, but I happily grab his hand and let him walk me home. Behind the apothecary, we pause, his hands on my waist. He leans in to whisper "I like your hair like that." I smile back at him, and he begins running his fingers through the curls as he leans in to kiss me. This kiss can't get as heated as our stolen moments in his house or the woods, but it's long and leaves me breathless. I traipse up the steps and to my room with a smile on my face.

* * *

The next morning as I get ready for school I hear the work crew building something in the square. Instead of going out the back way (the shortest way to school), Prim and I go out the front so we can wave to Gale as we walk the long way around. They're working on some sort of platform, and Gale looks gloomy. Peacekeepers stand around the edges, looking equally dismal. I realize that I only recognize a few of them, and none of them are chatting cheerfully with the workers like Darius or Aurora do. I try to catch Gale's eye, but he's hard at work, so we leave the square for another long day of school.

I know the Capitol people will be packing up in the next few days, and I'm looking forward to it. My thoughts are in the woods. Even though it's cold out, there's a lot we could be doing, and with no snow, there should still be plenty of game out in the woods. Maybe Gale even got done with work early enough today to check if the fence is off. I'm lost in these thoughts as we're walking home from school.

As Madge, Delly, Prim and I near the square, we hear an odd sound. A woosh, then a crack. We look at one another in confusion. Then some gasps...it sounds like there's a large crowd. Madge is the first to figure it out, and takes off toward the square in a run, beckoning us to follow her. Because we are on the back path, we have to go all the way around the side of the square to see what's happening.

"It sounds like a whip." She pants at me. Delly and Prim have fallen behind.

"Why would there be a whip?" Then it dawns on me. The construction in the square this morning. One of the platforms had a large post jutting from it. The other had multiple, smaller posts. In pairs. Boards with half-moons cut from them and hinges on the side rested against the knee-high stone wall. I think of the stories my mother has hesitantly shared over the past few months. Stories which happened after Haymitch won his games. Stocks. Whippings, at a whipping post. Firing squads in front of the justice building.

As we run, I think of the "official" rules of District 12, and which are punished by whipping. Poaching, stealing, fighting and public intoxication all come to mind. Then my heart sinks when I think of Gale. If the whipping post is finished, he got off work early. And if he got off work early, he may have gone out hunting...

Madge and I round the corner into the square, and see the crowd gathered. Sure enough, there's a row of stocks and a whipping pole. A gallows stands between them.

I catch a glimpse of the figure in front of the whipping pole, being beaten by the peacekeepers. It's male. His hair is dark and thick. _Gale_. I try to push through the crowd to get a better look, hoping against hope that my instinct is wrong. But I'm small, and no one important, so most people just ignore me and grumble among themselves.

"He should have known better..."

"Stupid boy, wasn't even trying to hide it."

I'm almost in tears, trying to fight through the crowd. I've lost Madge, who has far more clout than I, and has pushed to the front of the crowd. The lump in my throat is growing. Between the bodies, I can see the person's back, bleeding onto the platform. I can see and hear the whip as the pack of people gasps.

I duck past a few more people as the whip cracks again. The figure isn't moving, isn't crying out.

"Enough!" The voice cuts through the grousing of the crowd. It's Peeta.

"Who are you?" The Peacekeeper's voice is unfamiliar.

"Peeta Mellark, victor of the 74th Hunger Games."

"Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the 50th Hunger Games."

The peacekeeper is silent for a moment, likely considering the clout these two men have. Then he speaks. "As head peacekeeper for this district, it is my duty to punish known thieves who flout the rules." _There is no way that anyone but Gale is tied to that whipping post, likely dead._ My head begins buzzing, and I push past a few more people, not caring any more about politeness.

The peacekeeper, who is not Cray (the head for the past 15 years), continues. "I will now ask this crowd to disperse. Please re-familiarize yourself with the rules and regulations of District 12, and let this be a warning for you. There will no longer be any leniency." I swallow my bile as I reach the front of the crowd. I hesitate before pushing past the last layer of people. If that is Gale up there, I'm not sure I can handle it. I won't be able to continue on...

_I love him. I love him, and I'll never get to tell him because he's dead, and now I'll become my mother and be unable to function or breathe. I love him and he's dead. _

I'm about to push through the last layer of the crowd and conform my greatest fears when a pair of arms grab me from behind, dragging me back through the crowd.

"No, I need to see..." I'm fighting the arms around my waist, kicking and trying to twist out when I smell something familiar. Pine needles. Seam soap. "Gale!"

I am flooded by the greatest relief I have felt in my life. Relief greater than the reaping each year when they say someone else's name. Relief even greater than the day two loaves of bread saved my life. Relief so great I burst into tears. I'm vaguely aware of Peeta and Haymitch arguing with the hard-faced man in the square as Gale half drags me into the apothecary and up the stairs. He sits on the couch and takes me in his arms.

"I thought it was you...and I saw that he wasn't moving, and I thought you were dead..." I squeeze out between sobs. From downstairs, I hear thumps and shouts. They've brought whoever it is into the shop. Prim runs past us, down the stairs to help.

"I'm here. I'm OK." He rocks me as if I were Posy as I cry into his neck. "Catnip, you need to stay away from things like that...don't let this guy know you even exist. This isn't good." That's when I notice that he's pretty upset himself.

"Who was it?" If it's not Gale, who would be arrested and whipped? Who would be blatently flouting the laws?

"Sedric." Sedric works in the mine where Gale worked, and had attended one or two of our rebellion meetings. Gale continues. "His job was to sneak some explosives out of the mines...he knew the risk..."

I hear a wail from downstairs. Gale closes his eyes briefly and continues. "I was in the square finishing up when they drug him in. Emptied his pockets in front of everyone, and tied him to the post." He pauses and breathes deeply for a second. "They must have whipped him 40 or 50 times." He hugs me tighter. "I just kept imagining that night you were stuck outside the fence...that could have been _you_."

I nod. "I saw his hair, and I just lost it." I look into his eyes, the color of steel. "Gale, if that had been you, I don't know what I would have done..." I shudder at the thought. Then the words bubble up from inside of me before I can think. "I realized that I love you."

My words echo in the empty apartment for a moment, and I watch the look in his eyes change from fear and sadness to joy.

Then his lips are on mine again, the intensity even greater than normal. The intensity of someone who, even though he's witnessed tragedy and horror, has suddenly gotten something he's always wanted. He pulls away for a moment and murmurs "don't worry, I figured that out awhile ago" before he returns to kissing me.

About 20 minutes later, my hair is a mess and my school clothes are out of sorts when my mom clears her throat from the top of the stairs. "Katniss, I need you to watch the shop with Prim while I go help the undertaker."

We're suddenly grim again as the reality of the situation sinks in. Sedric is dead. His children and wife are on their own. Gale becomes serious.

My mother addresses him. "You should probably go find your mother. Haymitch will let her know what happened, but she'll want to see you."

We follow her wordlessly downstairs. Gale squeezes my hand and slips out the back door and I take my spot at the counter next to Prim. She rubs my arm gently and we look out over the now-empty square. Blood covers the ground around the whipping post. The rope on the gallows sways in the frigid wind. I look over to Prim, whose school clothes are stained crimson, fading to a dark brown.

"Little Duck, you should probably go change." She glances down at her clothes, and realizes with a start that she's covered in blood. She nods and goes upstairs, leaving me alone to look at the empty, bloody square. I shake myself a little with the need to stop the image that keeps replaying in my brain. Of a tall, dark-haired figure stilled under a whip. So instead, I grab the inventory book and start going through the shelves. Fever pills, anti-inflammatories, aloe leaves...I'm toward the end of the second page when I come across the Queen Anne's Lace tea. Hastily, I mark the number on the page, then pause. Erase. Mark a slightly smaller number and shove the bag into my pocket. I put a few coins in the register to pay for it.

Just in case.

* * *

The next day the Capitol people have left town. I briefly consider whether we'll meet as we did last year, and choose to hang around the backyard (hypothetically in order to check on Lady and the chickens), and sure enough, Madge sneaks around the corner of the abandoned building and beckons me to join her. Within a few minutes, Gale and Haymitch arrive.

"Just us today" Haymitch says gruffly. "Smaller groups from now on. Can't bring attention to ourselves." He has the little book open on the table, the green light steady.

Gale then takes control of the meeting. Although he usually defers to Haymitch, it becomes obvious that he has done a great deal of thinking and planning, and the victor seems to appreciate his leadership. "With Sedric gone, Thom takes over his duties at the mine. I tracked down some of the guys last night, and we figured out a different way to get the explosives out and into the woods."

Haymitch nods and Madge interjects "the carts?"

"Yes. So now Katniss and I will be taking things from the station to the point we picked out." I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows. He looks at me, then at the ground and clears his throat. "I mean, I'll take them and Katniss can help if she'd like to."

At that exchange, Haymitch guffaws. "Learned your lesson, eh, boy?" Madge giggles behind her hand, and I shoot Haymitch a dirty look.

"The whole thing is moot if the fence stays on." I point out, changing the subject.

"There's a backup plan" mutters Madge cryptically.

Haymitch grumbles "there's ways around that if you try hard enough anyway."

"And we'll address that in a few weeks if it's still a problem" finishes Gale. I feel like the three of them know things I don't. Peeta and I had discussed previously that no one is supposed to know the full plan, so that if anyone gets caught they won't bring down the entire rebellion. But with the new Head and Sedric's death, I'm not fully comfortable being in the dark, especially as it appears that Haymitch and Gale and even Madge seem to know more than I do. There are few things I dislike more than feeling vulnerable.

"I need to know _something_" I press, eyeing Gale. "Especially after yesterday."

Gale refuses to meet my gaze, and Madge is staring at the floor. Haymitch, however, squints his eyes in my direction. "You're better off getting whipped and not knowing anything than you are knowing the plan and getting taken to the Capitol, sweetheart."

I stare hard back at him. "If you want my help, I need to have some sort of idea about what's going on."

Madge mutters "no one has any sort of idea what's going on." Her voice has a hint of bitterness, but it's mostly full of resignation.

"Haymitch does." I continue staring at him.

"Sweetheart, if I knew the full plan, it would have been executed the second that kid got back to District 12. Don't think I've enjoyed six months of wrangling the little brat and dealing with bread boy's mood swings." Gale almost growls when Haymitch calls Rory a brat. "Oh, don't pretend you're not sick of it, too. Anyway, the plan we have here will take at least a year to set up. Plus there's other districts involved with their own planning and execution. So I'd like it very much if you two could do your part of the plan so I can do _my_ part of the plan, and we can be ready when the time comes." And with that, Haymitch grabs a flask from inside his jacket, takes a swig and storms down the stairs and out the back door.

As the door slams, Madge looks at me empathetically. "I know you like to know what you're getting into. I don't know much either, and it's frustrating."

"So what's your job?" Gale interjects.

Madge's eyes sparkle a little. "Let's just say that my father has to approve or deny all purchase orders, and sometimes they get lost. Especially when they're tiny little purchase orders that involve parts of the fence power station." She smiles at that. "I can't make guarantees, but I can make things a bit more unreliable."

"And our part is now to get explosives out of town?" I turn to Gale, who has obviously been in on this for longer.

"Sedric was sneaking them out of the mine and then every few months taking them to the tracks a few miles from here...now Thom and some other guys will get them to the train depot, one of the depot men will get them to a spot just beyond the fence, and we'll take them to the demolition point." Even through his frustration, Gale looks a little excited at the prospect. "Then when the time comes, you and I will set them off. Other people will be in charge of keeping the town safe and stockpiling supplies. I'm sure there's other things, too."

"Fine." I look at him, making it clear that he needs to wait for my agreement. "I'm in. As long as Prim is safe."


	23. The 76th Hunger Games Reaping

In early April, the ground has begun to thaw and plants have begun to bloom. It's warm during the day and still chilly in the evening, but Gale and I are happy to be out in the woods on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The fence has been off for several weeks, and we've heard no rumors that it's going to be back on. Maybe it will be off for good this time. Even so, we've hidden packs with survival gear just inside the woods so that if it does come on (or if we're called to do our rebellion work), we can camp out for a few days or escape into the woods.

On this particular Saturday, we've been walking the snare lines and shooting the game we can find. I have a bag full of squirrels and a fat rabbit. We walk hand in hand, content to just be silent together. Gale's hair is somewhat shaggy, hanging in his eyes a bit. When the sun hits it, the dark strands shine with just a hint of red, reflecting the beginning of the sunset. I lean my head against his shoulder a bit as we walk, content. He kisses the top of my head. It's a perfect spring day.

Loaded down with game, we approach the fence. It's buzzing, alive with electricity.

Gale swears under his breath, and pulls me back into the woods. "What do you think? Will they turn it off tonight?"

"We should probably set up camp in case they don't. We'll check back in the morning." To be honest, the idea of spending the night in the woods with Gale is a little exciting. During the winter, we'd scouted out the best places to camp: far enough from town and hidden well enough that we could light a fire or spend the night without risk of discovery from the peacekeepers. We found a spot, about half a mile from the lake, where our campfire smoke would be hidden by a mountain, we're sheltered from the wind, and we'll be able to hear or see anyone coming toward us.

We grab our packs and hide our game in a hollow log, wrapped in plastic. We can come back for it tomorrow. The spot we've scouted is about a 2 hour walk from the fence, so we know we'll have to move quickly to get there before sundown. Even in our hurry (and the nagging questions about peacekeepers), I find myself enjoying the walk and the time alone with Gale. At home, it seems like my mother is doing her best to keep us from having time alone together. She's enlisted Prim and Rory into her mission, and they seem to relish tracking us down and interrupting us, especially when we're at Gale's house in the seam. More than once, they've pounded on the door, giggling, or burst into the room to find us in somewhat compromising positions. We haven't yet slept together, but some days I wonder whether we would have, if not for the constant threat of meddling siblings. The woods are often our only times in solitude, but those times are busy with hunting and gathering.

When we reach the little hollow near the lake, I busy myself with building a campfire (far enough away that if it's detected, we can stay hidden), and Gale sets up the small tent that Rory ordered from the Capitol. Presumably, he told them it was for backyard camping in the summer, and I'm sure we'll have to bring it back for some sort of TV spot. But for now it's ours. It's small, probably only 3 and a half feet tall, and has just enough room for two people inside. It's colored with brownish/green spots, and blends in well in the thicket of bushes we've found. Inside, Gale lays out the sleeping bags. They're thicker than the ones I've seen on the games, and zip along the sides, but roll up into tiny pouches that fit in our packs.

We eat a dinner of squirrel and dandelion greens sitting side-by-side on a log, and sip water from a spring nearby.

Even though he knows the answer, Gale has to ask the question. "Is this it, Catnip? We can just stay out here...head south..." He's serious.

"Gale..." I know I sound mildly exasperated. I love him, but I also love Prim. And I can't leave until I know she's safe. And she's certainly not safe right now.

"I know. But someday, right? Just you and me. Free."

"Yes, someday. Just us."

"I love you, Katniss."

"I love you, too, Gale." He pulls me into his lap, and we simply sit, watching the fire for awhile. Eventually it begins to die down, and the chill of the night is around us. We walk back to our tent, bows slung over our shoulders, shivering a bit in the cold.

I'm beginning to regret not wearing extra layers, when Gale has a brilliant idea. By the light of the torch we've made from a tree branch, he unzips both sleeping bags, then zips them to one another, creating a single, large sleeping bag.

"Body heat." He says, but I recognize the mischievous tone of his voice. I savor the butterflies that flit in my stomach.

We take off our shoes and crawl into the tent, side by side into the sleeping bag. Gale's lips are immediately on mine (if there's anything I know about Gale, it's that when he wants something, he doesn't hold back). His hand finds the end of my braid, and flicks the elastic off; he runs his fingers through until my hair is loose. My hands are on his waist, and we're both breathing heavily when he begins kissing down my neck. We both shrug off our jackets, shoving them down toward the far end of the tent so they don't get damp in the dewy forest. As his hand finds its way up the side of my body, I kiss him in the spot below his ear that I know he likes. The hunger I've been feeling more and more often lately begins to consume me.

"Katniss...should we...do you...?" His voice is husky, and even in the darkness, I know his eyes are full of longing. I'm grateful that I started drinking the Queen Anne's Lace tea from my mom's shop. I make the decision impulsively, but I know this moment is inevitable. Unplanned, yes, but not unwanted.

"Yes. I want to." My voice is sure, and I feel his lips smile against mine in the darkness.

We join together in the woods, the woods that we've called home for most of our lives; the woods that have sustained us and brought us together. It seems natural that our first time should be out here, far away from the district, the rebellion, and our questions about the fence. At first there is discomfort, but those feelings are replaced quickly by a sense of completeness. Together, we are more than just two people trying to survive.

**I am his, and he is mine. Anything else is unthinkable.**

After, he kisses me gently and tells me he loves me, and we reluctantly re-dress, the early spring chill seeping into the tent. We sleep nestled together to guard against the cold, and because we can't imagine any other way to sleep.

As dawn is breaking, I savor the feeling of awakening in Gale's arms. It's warm inside our sleeping bag, but I feel the chilliness of the outside on my nose and ears, so I burrow deeper into Gale's chest, burying my face in the scent of pine needles. He stirs slightly and wraps his arms tighter around me, sighing happily.

"Morning, Catnip." He kisses the top of my head. I want to stay here, in this tent, away from the district forever. I snuggle closer to him as his plan for us to leave the district seems like a better and better idea.

Eventually we reluctantly pack up our campsite and hike warily back to town. The sun is just making its way above the mountains when we reach the district. The fence is silent, and we slip through the spot closest to Gale's house, bringing our game with us. We nestle on the couch at Gale's house until we're sure other people have made their way to the Hob, and we trade our game.

* * *

The next weeks are spent in a flurry of preparations for Madge's wedding, somewhat successful attempts to sneak off with Gale, and growing concerns (mostly in my head) that Prim will be reaped in some sort of retaliation against Rory. My anxiety is not at all assuaged when, instead of Rory and Prim catching us alone together, we occasionally catch them holding hands or curled up together on the couch in the apartment above the apothecary. While their friendship still appears to be innocent, it is quickly moving away from platonic. My experiences with the Capitol (and with life in general) is that romantic relationships are a weakness; something to be exploited. Two naive 14-year-olds who are stuck in the spotlight are going to struggle to manage whatever it is the Capitol wants from them.

The night before Reaping Day, Gale and I curl up in his bed. He's picked up on my nervous energy, and is trying to calm me down by playing with my hair. I'm pretty sure it's mostly for his own benefit.

"You only have 25 entries, Catnip. It's your last one, then you never have to do it again."

"It's not me I'm worried about." We're silent for a minute. Rory seems to have kept himself out of trouble since the victory tour, but that's no guarantee for Prim's safety. _She only has 3 entries_. I remind myself repeatedly.

Gale takes a deep breath. "If they reap her...you're going to volunteer, aren't you?"

"If you could have volunteered when Rory was reaped, you would have."

"Yes." He's thoughtful for a moment. "But I would have had a chance to win. You'd probably win in any other year...but they're not going to let District 12 win 3 years in a row. Especially not after Rory's outbursts."

"All the more reason for me to go in her place. You know she wouldn't stand a chance at all."

"I know you'd go, Catnip. I just don't want you to."

"It would kill me to see her there."

"It would kill me to see you there." We sit in silence for awhile as he holds me tighter against him. "Just promise me" he whispers "that you won't leave me."

"I can't promise that, Gale."

* * *

I wake on reaping day with Prim in my bed. Although we haven't discussed the fact that she may be reaped in order to punish Rory, I feel like she knows on some level. She snuggled close to me through the night, and her eyes are wet this morning. In the past, I've spent the morning of the reaping out hunting, but last year Prim needed me too much, and this year Gale and I don't dare leave the fence with Capitol people in town.

After lunch we march out to the square. Prim has on her blue dress that she wore to the banquet last summer, and I've let my mom and Delly talk me into ordering a new dress. This one is knee length and red, with a simple gray belt. The town-appropriate shoes (because my mother, above all else, feels like we need to live up to our station or whatever) pinch my toes. I search for Gale in the crowd, but don't see him. Since no one in his family is eligible for the reaping this year, he is probably somewhere on a side street. On stage, Peeta shuffles anxiously back and forth. Haymitch is nowhere to be seen, and Rory slouches in the middle chair. Prim and I check in, and separate to go into our own sections. Prim, in the 3rd section, me in the back.

Since she's of reaping age this year, Madge doesn't get to sit on the platform with her father. Her mom has made a rare appearance, squinting against the brightness of the summer sun as she leans on the Mayor's arm. Madge sidles up next to me and grabs my hand. "In less than half an hour, we'll be free of this forever." She squeezes my hand reassuringly. Delly joins us, her usually cheerful face looking worried.

Effie herds Haymitch (who is only swaying slightly today) and Peeta into their chairs. I close my eyes and feel the breeze as I tune out the sounds of the reaping. Silently, I repeat to myself _not me, not Prim, not me, not Prim. Breathe in, breathe out..._

Madge squeezes my hand tighter, and I'm brought out of my thoughts by Effie cheerfully announcing "ladies first!"

She approaches the glass bowl and fishes her hands around. My own hands are getting sweaty, and I stifle the urge to wipe them on my skirt.

_Not me, not Prim, not me, not Prim._

Effie steps back to the microphone, clears her throat and says "Fannie Stark!" I release a breath and nearly double over with relief, my eyes closed. Next to me, I hear Madge release her own held breath. When I open my eyes, there is an uneasy-looking 17-year-old from the Community Home standing on stage, staring back at the crowd. I feel an odd sense of relief, which slowly grows into an almost-giddy feeling of lightness.

Effie practically skips over to the boys' bowl. Her hair is a somewhat natural color this year (although few of blondes in District 12 have hair quite this white), but it's done into a bouffant of curls. As she walks, it bounces in the breeze. She reaches deep into the boys' bowl and pulls a folded piece of paper.

"Stuart McCormick!"

I know him. Not well, but he lived near us in the seam. He's an 18, of average build, and he was always in my mining classes.

The look on his face is grim. He knows he's going to die. I feel a shot of guilt make its way through my chest.

After the remaining portions of the reaping, during which I fight an internal battle between relief and guilt, we're dismissed. I meet up with Prim outside the apothecary and hug her tightly, glad that she's safe. Miserable, because Rory will be gone until the tributes are dead, but safe.

Gale makes his way through the crowd and meets up with us on the porch, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He takes me into his arms and whispers in my ear "not you, Catnip." I grin back up at him. I'm taken back to the day of his last reaping, the day he first kissed me in the woods. At the time, I had been upset and mortified at the un-Gale-like show of emotion. Understanding floods my mind as I realize what he had been experiencing. Lightness. Relief. This is the first day that I know for sure I have a future, that I'm sure I'll never be stuck in the hunger games, sacrificed for the sins of my forefathers to a tyrannical Capitol.

So I kiss him, right there on the porch of the apothecary, in front of my mother and sister (and probably half the town). This kiss isn't a chaste peck, but more akin to the kisses we share when we're alone in the woods or Gale's house. I feel the heat beginning to rise in my core, and end the kiss before it goes further than would be proper on a porch. "That's to make up for the woods 2 years ago" I whisper to him. He grins back at me mischievously. He understands.

Prim clears her throat, a smile twitching at the corners of her own lips.

Eventually, we all head back up to Rory's house for dinner, even my mother. The atmosphere is cheerful, and I try hard not to think about where we were last year, or what Stuart's family and Fannie's friends are experiencing right now. Instead, I focus on the venison and gravy we're eating (I've had good luck with deer this spring) and chatting with our family.

My mom is surprisingly outgoing this evening, and lately I feel like I'm catching glimpses of the person she was when she met my father. About halfway through dinner she and Hazelle are chit-chatting about something (I haven't really been paying attention), when I hear her say "once she graduates, I'll be paying Katniss to do my books and ordering, plus for her shifts in the shop." I nearly choke on my roll.

"You will?" For the past few weeks, she's been having me keep track of our purchases and expenditures in the yellowed ledger in the office, and I've become good at predicting which medicines are needed from the Capitol. I leave the actual healing to my mom and Prim – that is not my strength. But I've discovered that I'm pretty good at the business end of things. It's likely a byproduct of my new "townie" classes at school.

"Of course, Katniss. Once you've graduated, you need to do something to support yourself. You're certainly not going to the mines." I shoot her a grateful look, and under the table, Gale squeezes my hand. I'm grateful. After seeing the finances, I know she can afford it. Peeta and Haymitch are faithful about paying for the treatments people can't afford.

"And then Gale won't have to go back to the mines when they get married." Posy has a big grin on her face.

Prim's unhappy frown turns to a giggle at that statement, then Vick joins in. Eventually our mothers also begin laughing, and the whole room is in stitches. Except Gale and I. His hand still weaves with mine under the table, but his face is probably as red as mine. We haven't talked about this. Heck, I haven't even thought about this. I've been so absorbed in Madge's wedding (and worrying about Prim) that I haven't even considered that marriage would be expected of us.

Through her giggles, Prim pats Posy on the head. "Sweetie, Katniss says she's never getting married."

Good, someone has been listening all this time.

Posy looks confused. "But Gale, you love Katniss, right?"

"Yes, Pose, I do." He squeezes my hand again under the table.

"And Katniss loves Gale." I nod at her. Our mothers' eyes are wide. Posy is probably the only person in the room, maybe even the world who could bring this up without getting the full wrath of both of us.

"And when people love each other, and they're grown ups, they get married. Like mommy and daddy before I was born. And June's mommy and daddy. And Rory and Prim once they're grown ups." The room is silent. Prim is the color of the red checked tablecloth.

Hazelle finally breaks the awkward silence. "Sweetie, grown ups get married when they're ready. And Gale and Katniss aren't ready yet." She looks at me kindly, and I'm grateful for her understanding.

"But don't you want to sleep in the same bed at night and help each other every day?" Posy is addressing us directly. We look at one another, both speechless. When she puts it that way, yes marriage sounds like a good thing. In fact, it's sounding pretty attractive; waking up with Gale every morning, and snuggling in bed with him every night. But then I'd have to leave my mom and Prim, and only see them during my shifts at the apothecary. On the other hand, with my income from helping my mom, I'm sure Gale and I could take care of ourselves and neither of us would ever have to go to the mines.

Wait, why am I taking a 6-year-old seriously right now? About marriage? I've never wanted this.

_You never thought you wanted love either, but it snuck up on you_.


	24. Madge's Wedding

Madge's wedding is the second week of July, just after we graduate. Gale's crew had been busy throughout June, fixing up the old candy shop next door to the apothecary. Madge had been busy as well, planning one of the biggest weddings we'd ever seen in District 12. Our tributes in the games had died, as most of 12's do, at the bloodbath. Haymitch, Peeta and Rory had returned in mid-June grim and unhappy. During the remainder of the games (won by the girl from District 2), Gale and I had watched most of the mandatory viewings from the loveseat in my apartment above the apothecary, only half paying attention and much to my mother's chagrin, occasionally sneaking to his house down in the seam for some time alone.

I've arrived at the Mayor's house early in the morning on the day of the wedding. Because of his station, and the fact that Nick's brother is Peeta, they've brought in District 12's games' stylists and prep teams. Down in the meadow, the crew is putting together rows of folding chairs for the ceremony, a pretty white arch and tables and chairs for the party afterward. There will be a camera crew there to tape the whole thing.

The stylists and prep teams cluck unhappily about my hair, my eyebrows and my nails. They eventually settle on using hot wax to remove "extra" hair on my face (and I'm grateful they didn't follow through on their original plan to remove the hair on the rest of my body), then they put on "light" makeup. After washing and trimming my hair slightly, they curl it into long waves, and tie the top half back. Another team of people have Madge undergoing even more preparations in her bedroom, so I'm allowed to sit in the kitchen and sip some mint tea until it's time to get in our dresses.

The Mayor wanders in. They've trimmed his salt-and-pepper speckled beard, and used some sort of cream to tame his hair. His usually kind and cheerful visage turns serious when he sits down across from me.

"Katniss, I've had this talk with my daughter, but I want to remind you and the Hawthorne kid of the same thing. The candy shop is no longer abandoned, and you and your _friends_ are no longer welcome to hang around there." The Mayor has been vaguely aware of the rebellion, I'm sure. But his coded speech is more specific. He's aware that something is up and the candy shop is no longer safe.

"Thanks, we'll keep that in mind." I wrack my brain to think of an unobtrusive way to ask my next question. I know for a fact the Mayor's house is bugged. "Um...do you think there are safety issues there? Or would the work crew have noticed?"

"Sometimes safety issues can crop up long after the work crew has left." It's definitely bugged.

"Do you ever worry about safety issues in other places?" What else in town is bugged?

"I would never assume anywhere is safe. Not even the Hawthorne's official residence or the apothecary. Lots of safety issues have been happening lately." Gale's house might be bugged. And mine. Someone suspects us.

"So what would you do?" At this point, the only safe place to talk is the woods, and that's not always accessible.

The Mayor looks at me hard. "I would make sure whatever I was risking my safety for was worth it."

_Does he not think the rebellion is worth it? Does he think it's OK to send 24 children to their deaths every year, and watch countless more die of starvation? Does he think it's OK to send people down to dangerous mines so they can die there? It must be nice to live so safely up in the Mayor's house. _

"It's always worth it." I say it evenly and he nods.

We finish our tea, and I'm called back upstairs to get ready. The stylist (a surprisingly approachable Capitol man named Cinna) dresses me in a deep purple dress with a shiny sash. The skirt falls to my knees, and the top has no straps. I feel exposed and undressed, but I remind myself that I told Madge I'd wear "whatever." He puts a short, sparkly necklace around my neck, a pair of uncomfortable pantyhose on my legs, and I step into some short, black heels. I had worried beforehand that I'd look too capitol for this wedding, but when I glance in the mirror, I look fancy, but not ridiculous. I'm still not wholly comfortable with the current situation, but I sigh and accept the outfit they've put me in. Hopefully my top doesn't fall down in front of the entire district.

Then I'm escorted to Madge's room so they can film me as I help her get ready. I don't help so much as hold the dress at various angles while the chipper camerawoman tells me where to move. This is exhausting. It would probably work better if they'd just let us actually help, instead of making it look like we're helping.

Eventually, Madge is laced into the gown. The ribbons on the back criss-cross, hugging the dress to her body. Her blonde hair is tied up, but falls in ringlets down the sides of her face, framing her blue eyes. My job, as her attendant, is to help carry the long, ivory train so that it does not drag in the coal dust on the street. They have hired a car (one of the few in District 12) to drive us to the wedding site.

Once we arrive at the meadow, Madge, her family and I are escorted into a small tent set up a distance away from the archway where Madge and Nick will pledge themselves to one another and the prosperity of Panem. In the tent, we are given champagne and Effie Trinkett cheerfully gives us a run-down of what is expected of us. This wedding will be broadcast all over the country, and is loosely based off of ancient wedding customs. The white dress, the attendents, the arch, all are part of an old-fashioned wedding. After the ceremony, Nick and Madge will be allowed a toasting, District 12's tradition. That part won't be aired...too "primitive" or something.

Following Effie's instructions, I walk slowly down the aisle between the rows of chairs as the music starts. Gale catches my eye as I pass him, sitting with his family. He gives me a wink, and I suddenly begin to appreciate the dress I've been given. By the time I reach the arch (where Nick and Peeta are standing), I can feel a smile reaching my lips.

Madge has followed me down the aisle on the arm of her father, glowing with the excitement of her wedding. Nick fidgets with his hands as she approaches. Peeta, acting as Nick's attendant, claps him gently on the shoulder. I glance at the audience and find Gale's eyes. The rest of the ceremony is a blur. I know Madge hands me her bouquet at one point, and Peeta hands the rings to the happy couple. Finally, they kiss, and I take Peeta's arm and follow the newest Mellarks back down the aisle.

At the opposite end of the aisle, there is a small fire pit, and a single skewer. Madge and Nick thread slices of bread onto it, and, both holding the silvery handle, plunge it into the fire until it's browned and toasted. They then each take a piece and simultaneously feed it to one another. The audience claps, and Madge and Nick kiss again. Now they're _really_ married. As the food is served, Peeta and I are pulled to the side to sign the marriage documents and have our picture taken and videoed.

Peeta leans down to my ear. "You look beautiful tonight."

"Thank you?" It stumbles out of my mouth and sounds like a question. I'm not great at accepting complements, and his makes me uncomfortable.

His eyes go wide. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. You just..." He stumbles off to sit at the table with his family.

As night has fallen, they've lit dozens of paper lanterns around the edges of the meadow, and candles glow from the center of the tables. Fireflies dance in the woods on the other side of the fence. I wind my way through tables, hoping my family or the Hawthornes have saved me some sort of food; I haven't eaten anything since the tea I drank with the Mayor, and I'm starved.

Once I find our table, Prim gestures to an empty seat between her and Gale, who turns around to greet me. We tend not to be overly-affectionate in public (except for the day of the reaping), but he pulls me into his lap and gently kisses my cheek.

"You look beautiful tonight." I initially stiffen at the words; I've already heard them, but then I relax. Coming from Gale, they seem comfortable.

"Thank you" I whisper in his ear as he runs his hands through my hair. "The stylists spent like 2 hours on that; they're going to be furious if you mess up all their work." Gale's obsession with my hair somehow simultaneously gives me butterflies and annoys me to no end.

"It's going to get messed up eventually, anyway" he whispers back, kicking the butterflies back into motion.

Finally, I simply hop off his lap and sit in my own chair. "I am absolutely starving." I declare, and help myself to the food on the table. None of it is the familiar district food. Instead, there is seafood from District 4, butcher meat from 10, and a huge variety of fruits and vegetables. I eat until I'm stuffed, and watch contentedly as Rory tries to get a shrieking Prim to eat some sort of seafood that looks like an octopus from one of my storybooks. He's having a good night.

Eventually, a band starts up, and I'm ushered by the Effie to dance for the cameras. These Capitol people have an obsession with watching people dance. They set up Madge and Nick in the center of the floor, then pair Madge's parents nearby (Madge's mom looks remarkably healthy for this evening, and I'm thankful).

Like a punch in the gut, it hits me that Peeta's father won't have anyone to dance with, when Effie drags an annoyed-looking Hazelle Hawthorne to the dance floor. "Parents of victors get the honor of dancing together" Hazelle whispers to me sarcastically. Then Effie places Peeta and I so that we're dancing together in the background of the shot, along with Bannock and his wife.

As we dance, Peeta apologizes for making me uncomfortable earlier. I smile and thank him, and we laugh a bit at the ridiculousness of a wedding like this. He tells me stories about parties he's been to in the Capitol, most of which end with Haymitch making a fool of himself.

Finally, satisfied that they've got enough footage for whatever broadcast they're creating, the capitol people allow everyone else onto the dance floor. Even thought I know Gale isn't too keen on dancing, he's one of the first out, confidently cutting in between Peeta and I with a glare in Peeta's direction.

"Gale, it was required. He wasn't trying anything."

"I've seen the way he's been looking at you tonight." Gale says jealously.

I sigh. "He's my friend. He's going to be my friend. You're going to have to get over it eventually." I lean my head on Gale's chest, hopeful that he's going to allow the subject to drop. He wraps his arms around me, and we dance in silence for awhile.

Eventually, once we're sure the Capitol people are no longer filming, he grabs my hand and drags me past the tables. We reach the other side of the meadow, and sit, leaning against a tree as we did almost a year ago. Gale wraps his arms around me, and I sigh happily as I lay my head back on his chest.

We can hear the faint tinkling conversation and music from our vantage point, and the reception is dimly lit by the glow of paper lanterns and fireflies. From here, it's beautiful, but I greatly prefer watching from a distance.

"I'd never want this" Gale whispers in my ear. I nod in the affirmative. Too many people, too much attention. I know Madge doesn't really want the attention either, but she felt like she had no choice. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he continues "but I keep thinking about what Posy said."

"Which part?" In my head, I run through the conversation after the reaping.

"The part where I want to wake up next to you every morning."

I sigh, knowing where this is going. "You know I don't want to get married, Gale."

"Maybe I'm not talking about getting married."

"What do you mean?" I brace myself for the ensuing conversation about escaping into the woods, away from the district. As always, this is where we meet an impasse. Gale has been ready to leave for years, even more so now that he knows Rory can take care of his family. But I'm more hesitant and (in my opinion) more realistic.

"Well, who says we have to get married for you to move in with me?"

Surprised, I turn this over in my head for a few minutes. From what I've picked up from Capitol TV programs, "moving in" without being married is accepted there. But in District 12, I'm not sure I know of anyone who has moved in with someone without being legally married. For one, it's prohibitively difficult to get assigned a house without a marriage. But Gale already has a house...

"My mom would never allow it." I point out the obvious obstacle. Now that we live back in town and my mom is behaving more how I remember from my childhood, she's become more worried about what other people think. I can't imagine that she'd willingly let me move out of the house before getting married.

Gale sighs. "No, she wouldn't...mine wouldn't be too happy either." After a few minutes he continues. "I think they want us to get married."

"How do you know?"

"This." He pulls from his pocket a thin length of leather woven around a pendant. A bronze flower with three distinct petals arranged in an almost perfect triangle is surrounded by a lace-like frame; the pendant is a trillium. Trillium was Hazelle's maiden name. The pretty white flowers appear in the early summer each year, and eventually fade to purple as time goes on. Clearly the pendant is a family heirloom.

"Your mom gave you that?"

"And your mom gave me the leather. It's from one of your dad's boots."

I take in a shaky breath. My mom only kept a handful of momentos from my father, but she'd always hinted that she had special tokens she'd hand down to us once we were of age. A lace from my father's boot was precious to her, but even moreso to me. It was in those boots that he'd taught me to hunt and survive. Giving that shoelace to Gale is a clear message to me.

Gale holds me closer for a moment, then ties the pendant and leather string to my wrist. "I don't care if you want a wedding or not, I want you to have this." He kisses my temple and we retreat back into silence, each lost in our thoughts.

A few minutes later, we hear voices from some of the trees a few hundred yards away. Familiar voices. Happy to be distracted from thoughts of marriage, I barely whisper under my breath to Gale "is that who I think it is?"

He gives me a smirk, and we silently rise. I carry my shoes in my hand; I can't walk quietly in heels. We sneak around the side of the cluster of trees, and sure enough, Rory and Prim are hand in hand in the center, their backs to us. Their quiet conversation is punctuated every few minutes by Prim's giggles.

We watch as Rory leans in and kisses her. All things considered, it's relatively chaste, and clearly one of their first. Gale chooses this moment to interrupt, the smirk still in the corner of his lips.

He clears his throat, and the pair jump away from one another, glancing guiltily over their shoulders at us. I cross my arms, attempting to look stern, although I'm holding back a smile.

After interrogating Rory and Prim for awhile, Gale and I rejoin the dancing. We don't talk about marriage, but Hazelle raises her eyebrows when she notices the pendant on my wrist.

Eventually, we sneak away from the reception and find ourselves alone in Gale's house. We eventually drift off to sleep together, and I awaken in the morning to a kiss on my forehead.

Maybe waking up next to him isn't such a bad thing.

* * *

**What do you think? Will the moms allow it? If the moms press the marriage issue, what will Katniss do?  
And who wants more cute Rory/Prim-ness?!**


	25. Making Toast

It takes Gale 2 weeks to convince me to move in. My biggest concern is my mother's reaction, of course, and it doesn't help that I have to endure another horrifying 20 minute lecture on birth control and "propriety" once Prim points out that I stayed at Gale's after the wedding. I manage to worm my way out of the discussion early by pointing out that we caught her and Rory kissing, and Prim and I aren't on speaking terms for a few days.

Eventually, however, Gale's constant badgering breaks down my defenses and I agree. As much as I hate to admit it, I want to live with Gale. I'm 18, I have a job at the apothecary, Gale has his job, and we'll make it just fine, especially when we factor in our hunting.

Of course, when we talk to our mothers about the plan, all hell breaks loose. After a week of fighting, arguing and insisting that _no_ we do not want to get married, my mother tells me in no uncertain terms to drop the issue, and Gale's mother all but forces him to move into Rory's house.

Prim gets back into my good graces by coming up with a surprisingly manipulative plan that solves our problems. But it still takes Gale until mid-November to convince me to go along with it.

Prim's reasoning is this: Gale and I want to live together, but we don't necessarily want a wedding or the official paperwork. Our mothers want us to be "officially" committed to on another before we move in together, and they don't want to have to explain to anyone that we're not married. Prim, I'm pretty sure, is just trying to distract everyone from teasing her and Rory about the day Haymitch caught them kissing. But her idea is brilliant.

We tell our mothers that we want to get married, but we have concerns about the paperwork side of things. Specifically, tying another Everdeen to a Hawthorne, changing my last name, and further tying victors to our family (especially since Haymitch and Peeta technically own the Apothecary) seems like a risky endeavor. Not just for me personally, but for the rebellion. So Prim insists that if we have a toasting, we'll be married in the eyes of our mothers, and no one will look at the official paperwork. So Gale and Prim decide that the best plan is to have a toasting without a legal marriage.

I'm hesitant. It's still a marriage of sorts, and while not legally binding, the legal side of the issue is not actually at the heart of my hesitancy. Moving in with Gale makes the whole thing slightly more real (although if I'm honest with myself, it's what I want), but a toasting... I've loudly, publicly stated since I was 12 that marriage was not in the cards for me. Not that I care what anyone thinks about me, but the idea of marriage (and particularly children) is the greatest source of anxiety for me. I debate for weeks as to whether I can emotionally handle being married, even if it's unofficial.

But eventually I get tired of trying to sneak around with Gale, avoiding our parents and siblings. We manage to get a few stolen moments in the woods, and even sneak into his house with Haymitch's bug-detecting books under the very real guise that we need to make sure we're not being spied on (Gale's house is surprisingly clear of bugs, and Rory's house is unsurprisingly crawling with them). But I'm itching for my own space, even if it's a rickety house in the seam with no running water and drafty windows. So I put aside my inflexibility and agree.

The day I agree to marry Gale is cold and gray. The sky matches the color of his eyes. We've been hiking toward the lake on a Saturday afternoon, intent on catching some fish before the water freezes, and keeping an eye out for the bears we've seen recently. After we set up some nets and traps, we lie down on a rock to eat our lunch, my head on Gale's chest, our bows within reach.

"So...I've been thinking about the toasting..." I start the conversation, and Gale quiets. "I think I want to do it."

There's a pause, then before I know it, I'm lifted into the air and spun around. "Katniss." His eyes are shining and there's a grin on his face. As he leans down to kiss me, I appreciate the fact that I'm the only person who can elicit this reaction from him.

"When?" I contemplate his question. I had been thinking so hard about _whether_ I wanted to do this toasting thing that I hadn't thought about _when_ we should do it.

"I see no reason to wait. There's nothing to plan, no house to prepare."

Gale grins mischievously. "So tonight?"

I smack him lightly. "Yeah, because our mothers will accept that."

He sighs. "So...tomorrow?"

I laugh at the thought, but it has a certain appeal. I don't like to wait on things. Neither Gale nor I is particularly patient. And the sooner we do this, the less time our mothers have to plan, argue, or try to stuff me into a white dress. "Let's do it. Tomorrow."

And so I pack my few belongings and spend my Sunday morning hauling them to Gale's house and setting things up. My mother gives me a few of her belongings from her early days with my father, in spite of her annoyance that our marriage isn't "official". My sister spends the early afternoon talking me into wearing a dress (I had intended to do the toasting in my everyday clothes) and curls my hair while my mother cooks some rabbit stew.

At 4pm we show up at Gale's house with the stew and some bakery bread from next door. Gale answers the door in his nicest clothes and ushers us in. As my mom putters around the kitchen, Hazelle arrives with Rory, Vick and Posy in tow (and some garden vegetables and fruit which she takes to the kitchen). Rory quickly joins Prim on the couch, and Posy dashes around the house, chattering excitedly about the toasting.

We're surprised when, a few moments later, there's a knock on the door. Haymitch, Peeta, Delly, Madge and Nick stand on the rickety porch, wearing their nice clothes.

I think my mouth hangs open. Rather than welcoming them in, I simply stand there for a moment.

Madge breaks the silence. "Posy spilled the beans. I know you don't want an audience, but we couldn't miss this."

Haymitch just huffs and takes a sip out of his flask.

They file in and Peeta puts a box down on the kitchen table and opens it to reveal a wedding cake, decorated with katniss flowers and hawthorn berries. Hazelle and my mother cluck over it excitedly.

Suddenly things seem much more...real. Until this point, I could pretend that the toasting was just a pretense to appease our mothers, but now there are more witnesses, and a cake...

I retreat to the corner and close my eyes for a moment. I hate being the center of attention, and I wanted this to be small and uneventful, and it keeps growing bigger. While I'm happy that my friends are here, I'm also overwhelmed.

I open my eyes to find Gale in front of me. "You're not backing out now, are you Catnip?" He smiles a little, but I can tell that he, too, is overwhelmed. Plus, my friends are here, but his are not.

"No...but are you OK with this? We can go get some of your friends if you want, or reschedule for another day, or ask Peeta and Haymitch and Madge and Nick and Delly to leave..." I am rambling.

Gale simply puts his hand on my shoulders and kisses my head. "It's fine. I don't care who is or is not here, I just want to make some toast with you." He takes my hand, barks at his brothers to calm down, And we have our toasting in the small fireplace in the house where Gale grew up. The walls are drafty and the electricity is usually off. It's too warm in the summer and too cold in the winter, but it's Gale's and mine.

After a delicious meal (plus some cake, of course), our family and friends leave us to settle in together. After almost 18 months under the constantly watchful eyes of our mothers and siblings, it feels almost like we're breaking a rule when we get to go to bed together.

The novelty of our arrangement wears off eventually, and by the time the 77th reaping comes around, we've settled into a comfortable and happy routine. My mother graciously gives me Sundays off at the Apothecary so that Gale and I can hunt together (when the fence is off), and in the evenings we often sneak out of the district together to gather herbs or check the snares. Sometimes we spend time up at Rory's with our siblings. Other times we hang out with some of our friends, including Nick and Madge. It feels strange and grown up to have dinner with none of our parents around, but we come to enjoy spending time in the apartment above the candy shop, which Madge has re-named "Maysilee's" in honor of her late aunt.

Our routine also includes increased involvement with the rebellion. We have snuck a large quantity of explosives to an area near a train trestle a few miles out of the district. All that remains is to complete our stash of survival gear. When the time comes, we are to sabotage the tracks, then hide out in the woods until the rebels have control of the district. The explosion is the signal for the rest of the rebels to complete their roles, overpower peacekeepers, and take control of the district. Then they'll send up a signal (most likely blowing up the Peacekeepers' headquarters) and we can return to town. The district itself is preparing as well. More and more gardens are popping up, and even some Seam families are finding ways to obtain livestock. Both are completely legal, and the feeling that _something_ is changing has given District 12 the extra energy to start taking care of itself. If we are cut off from supplies, we can survive.

The 77th reaping finds me clutching at Gale's hand while Prim and Vick stand within the roped off area. Prim, now 15, steals glances at Rory, who looks on with steely anger. His outbursts have calmed, and he seems to understand just how much is at stake. The Capitol all but ignores him, much to my relief. Vick is in the 12-year-old section, looking pale but determined. As Rory's brother, he probably has a better-than-average chance of being chosen as tribute. His friends pat him on the shoulder.

Effie draws the names of a 16-year-old seam girl and a 14-year-old boy from the community home. Prim is safe for another year.


	26. Planning a Rebellion

**"Write drunk, edit sober" Well, I'm editing drunk because y'all deserve an update. This may be fixed tomorrow.**

**6/10 - sorta edited**

* * *

Rory and Haymitch return from the Capitol after only a few weeks, the tributes dead. Peeta stays in the Capitol a few weeks longer, but returns with news from other districts, especially District 4. He starts organizing us with renewed vigor and finds ways to slip extra supplies into the district. We spend the summer embroiled in the rebellion.

It is from those supplies that we begin to stash survival gear just outside the district. As the plan stands, the explosion Gale and I will detonate will alert the rest of the district to start their parts of the coup, and we will stay hidden for a few days until we receive the signal that it's safe to return. At my insistence, we've made plans to keep Prim and Gale's siblings safe throughout the takeover, and to smuggle them to us south of District 12 if they fail. We'll be armed with enough survival gear to live semi-permanently in the wilderness if necessary.

Or forever, if Gale gets his way.

Gale has proven himself a valuable member of the planning team and he and Peeta have grown into a grudging partnership. Peeta has contacts throughout Panem, and an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the personal side of the politics and government of the country. Gale has the planning and strategic ability to figure out how to use that knowledge to our advantage.

Madge spends hours with Haymitch, making plans for in town. They've decided that it's best if Gale and I don't know what the plans look like just in case we're captured or killed. For the same reason, she's kept everyone else, even Nick, in the dark about most of the details. Only Peeta knows our part of the plan, although Haymitch knows the generalities.

During his last Capitol trip, Peeta got a hold of another surveillance device detector, and gave it to Gale and I so that we can be sure our house and the Apothecary are safe. Thus far, the light has stayed green. It is in our house that Gale and Peeta spend a rainy afternoon in late September, going over ways to keep Gale and I from being captured.

"From what I know, they track fugitives using 3 techniques. They'll track visually from the air using hovercrafts, send troops in on the ground in heavily suspected areas, and at night they'll use heat-seeking technology." Peeta has some tactical books and records from previous missions to track down traitors to Panem.

"We can easily get around the first, and find hard-to-travel areas for the second. The hardest to work around will be the heat seeking cameras." Gale mutters and rubs his temples. We've gone over this multiple times. Gale has already determined the search areas they'll use day-by-day if they're looking for us, and the least likely places that they'll look. He's also spent weeks poring over maps, finding good places to settle once we've escaped. But the cameras use technology that we're not familiar with, and they seem to be difficult to get around. Peeta has gotten a little information from Wiress in District 3, who invented some of the components. They detect heat on the ground, and can clearly show the temperature difference between the terrain and living creatures. According to Gale's research, they simply shoot whatever shows up as body temperature, and retrieve the bodies in the morning.

I read through the paperwork again and ask the boys "so they probably catch a lot of deer and stuff accidentally, right?"

"I don't think they care that much about false positives or saving wildlife. They just keep going until they find whoever they're looking for, but yes, they get deer and wild horses and some boars." Peeta grabs the paperwork again looking melancholy.

"And bears." Gale mutters.

"Huh?" Peeta is still reading.

"And bears. They must get bears."

"Not really...not according to this."

Suddenly it dawns on me. "They're not getting bears because the bears are in caves at night...and the heat seeking cameras only take surface temperature."

As the realization also dawns on Gale, he breaks into a wide grin.

We look at each other with glee.

"Caves!" It's almost simultaneous.

"You two freak me out when you do that thing where you think with the same brain." Mutters Peeta. His furrowed brow has smoothed, and he's looking at the paperwork with renewed hope.

Gale is excited now. "So all we have to do is hide in caves at night, and we're good."

I hate to cut into his enthusiasm, but I'm not so sure. "There's no guarantee that there will be caves where we're going, and even if we find one at the right time, there's no guarantee that there'a not something living there already." I feel bad pointing out the obvious, but we have to think this through.

Gale and Peeta return to searching through the paperwork, which includes some of the searching tactics the Capitol uses. Peeta gives up with his stack of papers and starts throwing together a stew to go with the bread that he brought. Usually when we have "planning" days like this, we'll put the paperwork way after dinner and find something different to do in the evening. Tonight we're planning to go play chess at Peeta's house with Madge, Delly and Nick.

Just as I'm ladling the stew, Gale has a brainstorm.

"Ok, so the Capitol calculates how far fugitives can get each day, and gradually increases the search area. That means that each day they have more area to search, and they probably ignore the area they've already looked."

Most of the time Gale and I think along the same lines, but there are times I feel completely lost. He has an uncanny ability to understand how animals and people think, to predict their behavior, and to find creative ways to deal with them. This is one of those times.

Peeta and I stare at him blankly. He's going to need to fill in some blanks.

He pulls out the maps again. "So we only need to find _one_ cave. One close to town. If we can stay undiscovered on the first night, and we stay there for a few more days, we can run _inside_ their search area, right under their noses."

Peeta nearly drops the bowls. The solution is so simple. The only thing we're missing is a cave.

* * *

Gale and I set out to find a cave on a cold December day. We've pored over the maps and found the areas that are least likely to lead to detection, but most likely to have caves. We've narrowed it down to 3 areas. One is south of town, closest to the route we want to take in order to eventually settle close to District 11. Another area is northeast of town. Knowing the topography, this area is most likely to have the kind of cave we want. Finally, there's an area to the west, nearer to the detonation point, but similar in landscape to the southern area. We've planned to spend 3 days searching out the caves in each area.

Peeta keeps telling us to wait until spring to explore, but we pointed out that right now the bears are hibernating in their caves. If we come across one, we're in much better shape than if we wait until spring and have a run-in with a hungry, awake bear.

Our packs are heavy on our backs, but since we have no guarantee of shelter or food, we've had to bring everything with us, including sleeping bags, a tent and food. We each have a quiver of arrows and a bow slung over our shoulder.

The first part of our journey is the hardest. We also have more explosives to drag with us to the trestle where we are going to sabotage the tracks. The added weight has us sweating within the first few miles in spite of the cold. Once we've hidden them securely, we set off to explore the westernmost area for caves. We spend as much of the afternoon as possible, but find few useful areas. The few caves we find are shallow, and won't shelter us as we need, but as the sun goes down we settle in one of these caves for the night.

The days are short, so it's well before our usual bedtime. We light a small fire, but put it out shortly after dusk, so as to not arouse suspicion. Gale and I can spend hours marching around the woods without saying a word, and tonight is no different as we snuggle into our sleeping bag in the tent. Out here in the woods, I often feel closer to him. This is something that's just ours, and I briefly wonder if other couples have something like this, something that's just theirs. I sigh happily and bury my face in Gale's chest, and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

The next morning we awake at daybreak and set off toward the area south of the district. This is the area where we most hope to find a good spot; after all, we plan to eventually settle a few hundred miles south of District 12, midway between 12 and 11. Hiding here would give us a head start, and we have a good route planned from the detonation site to this area.

But after an afternoon of trekking, we've only found one suitable cave, and it's occupied by some sort of animal. Rather than find out what it is, we settle in for the night about 30 minutes north, our tent sheltered by a small cluster of trees. As we lie listening to the sounds of the woods, I sense that Gale is annoyed.

I run my fingers across his chin stubble as I ask "what's wrong?"

He lets out a sigh. "I was just really hoping we could find a spot out here."

I can sense that it's about more than just a cave. If we can get this detail put together, we're prepared to set off the rebellion at any time. And that's truly what Gale has wanted all along.

I kiss him gently. "We'll find a spot. And it will happen. The rebellion."

Gale presses his forehead against mine and whispers "yes it will. No matter what. But hopefully not in the dead of winter. This sucks."  
I giggle and agree. Being out here this time of year is cold and uncomfortable, despite the fact that I like the time with Gale.

On the third morning we make our way to the northeast side of the district. It will be harder to get to this area from the detonation site, but it's a hard-to-trek area, difficult to see from the sky, and most importantly, has a large number of caves. An ideal hiding space.

The first cave we check looks to be lived-in by some kind of bear, but the second cave is perfect. It goes deep into the mountain, has a mostly-hidden entrance, and is close to water sources. We spend much of the day setting snares around the opening in order to keep animals from moving in, and further concealing it. Then we follow the map and mark a path back to the district. By nightfall, we've hidden our gear and ducked back under the fence, grateful to sleep in our own bed in front of a warm fire.

* * *

Once we return to town with our cave marked on a map, we go back to our usual routine. I work at the apothecary, Gale works in town, and we hunt when we have spare time. Things have been quiet for awhile; Rory has been avoiding public appearances, and the fence is off more often than it's on. There are still occasional whippings, and several people are placed in the stocks for minor infractions, but the district has adjusted to the new normal.

Some evenings we hang out with Peeta, finding safe routes and talking about the rebellion. Often he'll bring Delly with, but refuses to respond to my raised eyebrows. The two of them seem to be getting closer, but are also cautious about appearing in public together. Peeta refuses to discuss this at all.

Rory and Prim are also getting closer. I occasionally catch her calling him her boyfriend, and she is humming around her work more often than before. One January evening I walk up to the apartment to grab dinner, and catch them jumping away from each other on the couch, red faced and rumpled.

It's hard to come to terms with the fact that Prim is no longer a little girl. In my head, she still wears her hair in two braids and needs me to tuck in her shirt, but in reality she's grown up into a pretty, confident teenager. She's relied on me less and less since I moved out a year and a half ago.

We also spend some time with Madge and Nick. They're quite busy running the candy shop, but in the evenings we like to sit around the fire in their apartment and chat or play games. Sometimes Peeta and Delly join us (always arriving separately).

In mid-February, Madge and Nick surprise all four of us by announcing, almost casually, that Madge is pregnant. She's due in August. Delly shrieks in excitement, and Peeta draws them both into a hug. I notice, after I break away from hugging Madge, that Gale is pouting on the couch.

I nudge him and whisper "go congratulate them."

He shakes himself a bit, and gives them a halfhearted congratulations. I shoot him a look. I know why he's pouting. He's jealous. Every once in awhile he'll hopefully bring up the subject of children, but I always shoot him down and tell him to wait until after the rebellion.

As we walk home that night, his silence is less comfortable than normal. He's brooding, which for Gale is rarely good. While his temper is usually under control, when he thinks too much he gets grumpy and cross. I sigh and brace myself for a few weeks of putting up with his antics.

* * *

**A/N Thanks for your patience! I promise these will become more frequent. I have several future chapters written, but this in-between part has been rough for me. Feedback is always welcome!**


	27. Execution

Since Madge's announcement, Gale has continued to bring up his desire for children. Despite the fact that I've been adamant since the day we met that that was not in my plans as long as the Capitol stood, he's taken to hinting as often as possible.

I walk back into the house from my Apothecary shift and toss my bag on the table. I feel anxious as Gale unloads the groceries. I brought home bread from the Mellarks, cheese from Prim, and chocolate from Madge and Nick's. But tucked among these packages is a small bag of tea from my mother's shop, made from willow bark and pennyroyal.

He not-so-gently places the package in the center of the table and stares me down. I stare back, leaning against the sink.

"We have to talk about this" he begins.

"There's nothing to talk about, or I would have responded the first time you mentioned that Posy's cradle was still in the shed out back. Or the day you mentioned how nice it was that I had a job that I could take a baby to. Or when you asked your mom if she saved any baby clothes right in front of me." I refuse to back down.

"Katniss..." he pleads. "Just hear me out. Twelve years is a long time...things will be different."

"You can't guarantee that." I feel bile rise in the back of my throat. What if the rebellion fails? What if nothing happens? What if we have a child, the rebellion succeeds, but Gale or I die in the meanwhile. What if we have a child and he or she is reaped or killed?

I close my eyes as if to block out the thoughts. "Gale, I love you." I open them again, and see tears in the corners of his gray eyes that match the clouds outside. "You'd be an amazing father. But I'd be..."

"You'd be a great mother." He tries to grab my hand.

"A disaster" I substitute. My cheeks are wet. "And we can't. Remember how you felt when Rory was reaped? Imagine if that was your own child. Imagine watching our child go through that. Until I'm 100% sure that there are no more Hunger Games, I couldn't live if I knew there was even a tiny chance that could happen."

Gale stiffens at the mention of Rory's reaping. "We survived that. We can survive anything."

"Then you can survive waiting until we're out from under the Capitol's rule."

"What if I don't want to? Katniss, we can't keep letting the Capitol dictate what we do. That's their goal, that's what they want." His anger is escalating.

"But they do dictate what we do. Having a child isn't an act of rebellion. It just gives them more ammunition against us. Don't think for a second that if they found out what we're a part of, they wouldn't reap that child the first moment they could."

Gale's eyes have turned stormier. Angrier. "But this is why we're planning what we're planning. So our children and everyone's children can be safe."

"Yes, and I'm useless if I'm pregnant or carting around a baby."

"So I'll do our part of the plan."

"And what will I do?" I imagine having to sit at home, left behind while Gale blows up train tracks and leads a rebellion. "I'm not getting left behind. We're in this together, remember?"

He opens his mouth to say something, then shakes his head, grabs his coat, and storms out the door. I spend the rest of the evening curled up in our bed, drinking my tea.

Gale returns sometime after I drift off to sleep, and I awake in the morning to find him snoring on the couch, an empty white liquor bottle on the table. Rather than talk to him, I grab my bag and head to the Apothecary to do the books for the month. I refuse to be the one to give in and make up. I do him the service of slamming the door on my way out so he wakes up in time to go to work.

I spend the morning hunched over the accounting in the back office, arguing with Gale in my head. He knew going into this, not just before our toasting, but even when we were just friends, that I didn't want children. Just because I changed my mind ("against my better judgment," I mutter under my breath) about marriage or whatever, does not mean I change my mind about this. Ultimately, my hesitancy about love was a fear of having children and losing them to the Capitol.

The deafening whine of sirens jolts me from my anger. Mine accident. I focus on deep breaths to fight off the panic that is leaping into my chest as I remind myself that Gale is not down there. Down where my father died, down where right this moment any number of men and women might also be lying dead. Breathe. He's OK. He's with his work crew. My mother is upstairs. Prim is at school. Peeta and Haymitch are up in their houses. No one you are close to is in the mines. I think of Thom, a steady assistant in the rebellion, and push the thought from my mind. Through the window, I can see my mom behind the counter of the shop, her head in her hands.

The siren stops abruptly, and the district becomes silent and eerie. I'm still clutching the edge of the table, and my mom's head snaps to attention. This is not normal. A voice (Commander Thread's) crackles onto the loudspeaker system. "All residents of District 12 are required to proceed to the square within the next 30 minutes. There are no exceptions. I repeat, all residents of District 12 are required to proceed to the square within the next 30 minutes. There are no exceptions." Another crackle, and the loudspeaker shuts off.

I expect pandemonium outside, but the other residents appear just as shocked and confused as I am. This is unprecedented. It's only March; the reaping isn't for another 3 months. There is no mandatory viewing tonight. I sit next to my mom in the front room, trembling, and gingerly put my arm around her, knowing she's remembering the day my dad died.

Gale, Prim, Vick and Posy slip into the back door, and Gale wraps his arms around me after he catches my stricken face. He knows the panic I feel when the mine sirens go off. "I was by the school, so I picked them up and brought them here to avoid the crowds" he says into my hair. The kids sit down around the treatment table, and Prim begins making my mother a cup of tea to break her out of her stupor.

I'm still angry with Gale, but accept his embrace. My need for comfort is overwhelming my need to win this argument.

Soon Rory and Hazelle join us in the Apothecary as Peeta and Delly file into the Bakery next door. No exceptions. I wonder if Nick and Madge will sit in their store, join the Mellarks in the bakery, or join the Mayor in whatever he is going to be doing.

Twenty minutes have passed at this point and peacekeepers begin banging on the door of the shoe store a few doors down. Gale and I step onto the porch to try to hear what's happening, when we see the Cartwrights hustled onto the porch. One of the peacekeepers points at us. "Everyone in your store, outside. No one is to be inside their buildings." And he pounds on the bakery door to yell the same.

Bewildered, we gather everyone from inside, and grab a few extra coats and blankets to guard against the spring chill. When we step out onto the porch, peacekeepers usher a confused and annoyed Nick out of the candy shop. He walks to the bakery to join his father and brother on the porch. I want to ask him where Madge is, and if he knows what this is about, but the peacekeepers around us keep me from opening my mouth. Gale has one arm around my waist, and has picked up Posy (regardless of the fact that she's probably too big). Rory wraps his arms around Prim as the peacekeepers search the apothecary to make sure no one is inside.

In the crowded square, there are quiet murmurs, and children's voices, but most residents are too afraid to speak. Minutes tick by in silence. Cameramen perch on top of some of the buildings.

On cue, just as the 30 minutes pass, Commander Thread marches up onto the platform that holds the stocks and turns on his microphone.

"Citizens of District 12. You have been gathered today to watch the execution of known rebels who have been living among you." Gale's arm tightens around my waist and his face is gray. "It was discovered this morning that two members of your district have been harboring technology. This technology thwarts the safety and security of District 12 and Panem. It appears that these two rebels have used their positions of power to access intelligence and materials from other districts, which breaks penal code #4456."

I glance toward Peeta, who seems to be purposefully avoiding my eyes, and Gale firmly holds me in place. Somehow, almost 9,000 people stand into the square and it's almost completely silent.

Then they march the prisoners out. "These rebels have been interrogated and found to be acting alone. Due to their position, no trial will be conducted, and each has been sentenced to death by firing squad."

On the bakery porch, Nick screams, and peacekeepers move toward him. "MADGE!" His father and brothers hold him by the arms as he slumps and vomits. But the peacekeepers have their guns trained on the bakery, and there is nothing Nick can do.

On stage, with blood covering their faces, stand Mayor Undersee and his only daughter, Madge. Both stare defiantly, their hands cuffed behind their backs, as he continues. "Mayor James Undersee and Margaret Undersee Mellark, you are hereby sentenced to death by firing squad."

Against the side of the justice building, Madge and her father are each blindfolded. In front of each, five peacekeepers stand, guns at the ready.

Next to me, Gale places Posy on the ground and covers her eyes. Prim sobs into Rory's shoulder, and Nick has fallen to the ground.

I want to do the same. Cover my eyes like a child or collapse to the ground like Nick or sob into Gale's shoulder like Prim. Perhaps vomit into the peacekeepers' white boots in front of me. But I can't. Madge, one of my few friends, is about to die, and I owe it to her, to her memory, and to the rebellion to witness this. To make sure she doesn't die in vain, and to make sure that she is not forgotten.

I picture her shining happy eyes, just a few weeks ago, as she told me her good news.

The Capitol has no qualms about executing a pregnant woman. I'm sure she told them, begged for clemency or a delay. But she stands, blindfolded, awaiting death. I shudder, but keep my eyes trained on her golden hair.

At the command of Thread, both sets of executioners fire. And Madge and her father fall to the ground in a pool of blood.

* * *

That night, Gale and I lie in bed, not speaking. Usually after an argument we'll be up half the night making up, but tonight is different. Our argument is over, not because there's a winner, but because it's moot. Madge is dead. The rebellion has been compromised, and there's no way to know what anything looks like from this point forward.

I drift into a fitful sleep, and my nightmares return. In the thick darkness, I awake screaming. The dream remnants are fuzzy, but one detail is clear. A faceless peacekeeper lined up Prim, Gale, and a dark-haired child and executed them.

Gale holds me as I sob, our fight long since forgotten. I no longer feel safe in our house, so I can't even tell him about all my worries.

After the execution, Thread ordered the entire district back to their houses, and we immediately hid our bug-detecting device deep in the eaves of our attic. We plan to dispose of it in the woods at the next opportunity. Now that the Capitol knows about the technology, there's no way to guarantee it will work any longer.

Without Madge, the rebellion's only leader is Haymitch. We have no way to know if we've found safe places to talk, and with the death of the Mayor, we've lost an important link to the other districts.

They've crippled the entire rebellion in one afternoon.

* * *

**Sorry. Things will be going downhill, quickly from here. For a long time. Who can guess what's next? (Hint: Peeta hinted at it when they welcomed Rory into the rebellion)**


	28. The 78th Reaping

The weeks that follow are a blur of grief and confusion. Peeta seems to purposefully avoid the apothecary, and my mother tuts around me as if I were a small child, and Prim is unsure of how to act around me. It seems she spends more time with Rory than she does around the apothecary. Gale tries to visit Haymitch, but he refuses to answer his door. As the ground thaws, we manage to sneak out of the district and destroy our spy-book and do some hunting, but the entire spring seems gray and hopeless.

On my 20th birthday, Gale and I shuffle up to Rory's house for a subdued celebration. As we round the bend into the Victors' Village, Gale whispers "I'll try to get word on the plan from Haymitch, you just enjoy your birthday."

But when we file into Rory's house it's clear there's something wrong. Hazelle has a blazing look in her eyes, and Rory looks despondant. Posy, oblivious, skips up and hugs me. "Happy birthday, Katniss!" She hands me a small bunch of violets and lily-of-the-valley tied wtih a purple ribbon. As I'm exclaiming over the flowers, Prim and my mother arrive, with a cake from the Mellarks. Prim immediately senses that something's wrong with Rory, and takes him into the study where we can hear them argue. Before I can ask any more questions, Haymitch, Peeta and Nick come in.

According to my mother, Nick has been staying with Peeta since Madge's death.

The chaotic chattering that's ubiquitous at the Hawthornes' turns to awkward silence. Everyone greets the victors and Nick politely, but no one knows how to act around Nick.

Dinner is somewhat awkward and Rory and Prim appear to be continuing their argument across Posy's head. Haymitch and Hazelle avoid eye contact, and Nick and Peeta both push their food around their plate without talking.

After dinner and cake (which Peeta decorated with Katniss flowers), Haymitch quickly excuses himself, and Gale runs after him. I can hear their voices in the yard, and a few minutes later I follow.

Haymitch, who is drunk, points a shaky finger at Gale. "You never did have any sense or patience. Go home and take care of your wife, and I'll tell you when the time comes."

Gale's face is red. "We need to do something. We're ready, what are we waiting for? For them to kill more?"

I feel the anger rise up in me as well as I run over and poke Haymitch in the chest. "For your information, I can take care of myself. So stop worrying about me, stop avoiding us, and start being the leader you supposedly are. Or did my friend die for nothing?"

Haymitch lets out a sarcastic laugh. "So you've finally embraced the fact that you married the guy, Sweetheart? Only took a couple of years." Then he turns to walk to his house and mutters something that sounds like "too bad neither of you were reaped, you'd have torn off someone's..."

What happens next confuses me to the point of paralysis. Peeta, who must have followed me out of the house, runs full speed toward Haymitch and tackles him. I'm stuck to the ground. He begins pummelling Haymitch yelling "DO. YOU. EVER. SHUT. UP?! You make everything worse. You're making Rory's situation worse, you made my situation worse, and now you're insulting the only two people left who can help us!"

At this point, Gale pulls Peeta out of the mud, and Nick (who must have heard the ruckus) helps Haymitch off the ground.

"What situation with Rory?" Gale looks like he's about to join Peeta in beating the middle aged drunk man.

"None of your business" Haymitch slurs as he wipes blood from his nose.

Peeta spits "no, Haymitch, you tell them or I'll tell them."

"Then tell them, boy." Haymitch sarcastically guestures toward us.

Peeta is furious. "Fine. Gale, your brother is about to be a prostitute. Had we fought the peacekeepers or run when I wanted...when Madge wanted...this wouldn't be happening. But he's 16 now, and that's the life of a victor." He storms off into his house, slamming the door. Nick follows.

I'm finally shocked out of my stupor. Gale is glaring at Haymitch as if he could kill him with a look.

Gale's voice is calm. Too calm. "What did he mean? A prostitute?"

I grab Gale's arm as he steps toward Haymitch.

Haymitch slurs "I'm not drunk enough for this." Then he sighs. "This is what the Capitol does. We didn't want to tell the kid until we knew for sure..."

I chime in, staring at Haymitch. "But why? Rory doesn't need money..."

"Rory doesn't get money, Sweetheart. Snow does. Remember who's in charge." Then his face falls and he takes another swig from his flask. "I should have...the boy is right, we should have set things off when we had a chance."

As we stand staring at Haymitch, something clicks in my head. Peeta.

I leave Haymitch and Gale standing in the middle of the Village and dash through Peeta's door. I can hear raised voices behind me, but I choose to ignore them.

As I slam the door behind me, Peeta and Nick stop their heated conversation and stare at me.

"Peeta." I pant. "You said that was the life of a victor. Does that mean you...did they?" My mind rushes through a hundred conversations I've had with Peeta over the past 4 years. Little comments which I brushed off now make sense. Peeta's behavior in the Capitol...his unwillingness to talk about what goes on there...

Peeta puts his finger to his lips, points to the walls around us, and nods. It's not safe to talk here, but he's confirming.

I rush into his arms and hold him tight. "I'm so sorry." My words are barely audible.

Nick puts his hand on my shoulder and guestures to the back yard, and I follow the boys outside. Gale and Haymitch's argument on the path continues, just outside our hearing.

Peeta sighs and pats the bench next to him. Nick sits on the other side of me. "I didn't know either." He looks at Peeta with some hurt in his eyes.

"I felt so ashamed. No one would..." Peeta's head hangs as he speaks. "I didn't have a choice, and I couldn't admit it...then it had been so long, but I never wanted this to happen to Rory. I tried to stop it."

"Does Delly know?" Nick's question catches me off guard, and I realize exactly how self-centered I've been, and how I've been oblivious to so much of Peeta's life.

"Yeah. I told her I didn't want a relationship...that nothing good could come of being with me...but she wouldn't give up, so I finally told her. I thought she'd run away, but she didn't." He smiles a little. "She's always been like that. Doesn't know when to give up."

Nick chuckles a little.

Then Peeta turns to me. "But no one can know. If the Capitol finds out I have a girlfriend...she'll have a target on her back."

Of course. As annoying as I find Delly sometimes, I wouldn't want anything to happen to her. She's too old for the reaping, but something tells me that wouldn't stop the Capitol.

Peeta gives us a vague descripton of what the Capitol does to victors, and assures me that he, Haymitch and Finnick will help Rory as much as possible. He begs for my forgiveness, even though we all know none of this is his fault. My anger toward Snow and government grows. We talk until we hear Haymitch storm into his house, then I meet up with Gale (who is seething with rage). Even so, he's reached the same conclusion as I, and gives Peeta a brotherly hug as we leave.

"You'll help him, right? It sounds like there's nothing we can do..."

Peeta nods. "I'm sorry, Gale. We'll figure it out."

We walk dejected back down the path to our house. I allow myself a moment of gratefulness. Even though our house is small and drafty, Gale and I both escaped the reaping. We weren't forced into a life we didn't want, and we can be openly together. My heart breaks for Peeta and Rory, and I find myself feeling simultaneously guilty that we haven't met the same fate.

We lie together in bed that night, the day's events heavy in the air. As he holds me, Gale tells me what he negotiated with Haymitch. We're getting Rory out of this. There's not much we can do before they leave in 3 weeks for the Capitol, but they'll meet up with our allies during the Games. Once they return, we'll execute our plan before the end of the summer.

* * *

Of course, the 78th annual reaping brings its own set of anxieties. I spend the day before with Prim, and she helps me pick out new boots at the Cartwrights'. While we're there, I hug Delly closer than normal. I can't help but admire her strength. Prim and I eat dinner with my mother, and she chatters happily about her herd of goats.

I'm more nervous than she is. That night, I can't sleep. I dress in my new boots and a newish dress the next morning, my heart in my throat. Gale gently rubs my back.

"She'll be OK, Catnip." I have to remind myself that Gale has a brother in the reaping as well.

"So will Vick."

This becomes my mantra during the start of the reaping. _She'll be OK. She'll be OK._

"Ladies first!" Effie is effervescent as usual this year, and has allowed commander Thread to take over the Mayor's usual duties.

_She'll be OK. She'll be OK._

Effie reaches into the bowl and pulls out a slip.

_She'll be OK. She'll be OK. _

"Primrose Everdeen!"

Rory looks like he's about to rip Effie's wig off of her head. Gale's mouth is in a hard line. And the realization hits me: I can't save her. I can't volunteer. The world becomes blurry and my vision narrows as I collapse on the ground.

On stage, Rory steps forward and puts an arm around Prim, and when I glimpse her face, it's blank. I'm grateful that she's not breaking down, but something's not right here.

Rory is presenting them as a couple. Peeta and Haymitch aren't intervening.

Effie draws the boys name ("Mitt Prather" a 16-year-old I don't recognize), and Thread wraps up the ceremony. As he shuffles off the stage, Haymitch stumbles and knocks both bowls off their stands. My ears are still buzzing and I'm fighting the urge to vomit

Stern looking peacekeepers usher us into the justice building. Within moments, my mother joins us, crying silently. As we sign in, Gale keeps his hand on the small of my back, steadying me. We get a pitying look from Darius, but he is quickly pulled away by the hawk-faced peacekeeper.

"Do you want to go by yourself, or should I join you, Catnip?" Gale's voice is quiet, but there's an undercurrent of anger.

I grab his hand. "Stay with me."

A few of Prim's school friends join us, as well as Hazelle, Vick and Posy. Her friends go first, and leave the room in tears, arms around each other. Then the other Hawthornes enter the room, and as the door closes, I can hear Posy say "Rory came home, you'll come home, too."

Gale takes me in his arms and kisses my head. I murmur into his chest "she has no chance." He doesn't respond.

Gale and I are next, and I wipe the tears from my eyes, and put on a brave face, but clutch Gale's hand tightly.

As we're pushed into the room, Prim runs into my arms, and I hold her as if she were a child. Gale wraps his arms around both of us. When she pulls back, she's not crying.

Something that's been bothering me since the reaping solidifies in the front of my mind.

"You expected this." I'm not asking a question, I'm stating a fact. I raise my eyebrows and stare at her. She lowers her eyes to the ground.

"This was always a possibility." Her voice is clear but quiet.

"No, you expected this today particularly. You knew this would happen. Rory has been behaving himself, you're not firends with any, um, troublemakers. Why this year? Why today?" After 16 years of comforting her, today I'm the emotional one as tears gather at the corner of my eyes.

Gale grasps my hand tighter and stares hard at Prim. She looks back at us, her blue eyes intense.

She flops down in the chair. "You heard from Peeta what they're going to do to Rory. They've taken enough. They've put him through the worst of everything...do you know what he's seen? What's happened to him? He still has nightmares every night. And no one told him for 3 years what was going to happen. Katniss, they auctioned off his virginity. They sold him to the highest bidder, and they'll keep doing it until he's too old. They took everything else from him, so...I..."

She breaks off here, a blush staining her cheeks.

"We would have eventually. Maybe not now, but it would have happened, and we wanted it to be just ours. I knew the consequences, but Katniss, the Capitol would have me someday no matter what. At least now I have a chance, and Rory and I have..."

Images of Peeta and Delly flash through my head. Of his insistence that he's not good for her or anyone, that she's in danger if anyone knows they're together...

Gale connects the dots before I do. "You guys slept together? I'll kill him myself. He shouldn't have let you put yourself in danger!"

My eyes widen. My sister essentially just threw herself in front of a train for Rory. "Prim, you're so young..."

"How old were you, Katniss?" She looks at me knowingly.

"Seventeen. But that's not the point" I say softly.

"And I'm sixteen, I've been with Rory longer than you and Gale had been together. I'm not THAT young. And I'm certainly old enough to know the consequences and accept them."

Gale interjects. "But the two of you knew this would be punished if they found out." He pauses and looks back and forth between us, taking in my look of horror. "How did they find out?" His thoughts are racing as well.

Prim folds her hands in her lap. "I don't know...we thought we were careful..."

I throw my hands up. "Great." _And now she's as good as dead._ Tears of anger run down my face. "Prim..." There are no words to express the grief that's overcome me. Instead of talking, I envelop her in a hug, and we stand there for the moment.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." she says soothingly.

Gale says gruffly "we have a few minutes. What can we tell you to help?"

Prim smiles a bit. "I'm not too worried. Peeta has a plan...I guess this has happened before. Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta. They brought her home."

"They brought her home with half her sanity, Prim!"

"Would you rather have half my sanity, or none of me? Because we knew that someday they'd find a way to get rid of me. We just wanted it to be on our terms."

While a part of me understands, the rest of me is seething with rage and crumbling under grief. I want desperately to believe that Prim will come home, that she'll win...but the reality of the situation is that the odds are not in her favor.

So instead of yelling or crying, I wrap her in my arms like she's a child, and sing to her. Gale strokes our hair.

Too soon, peacekeepers bang through the door and grab me roughly by the arm. Gale growls a bit under his breath. "Let go of her. We're coming" and wraps his arm around my waist.

"Prim, I love you!" I call as the door shuts.

"I love you, too, Katniss!" her voice stays strong.

The peacekeepers roughly guide my mother into the room and slam the door behind her. We're left alone in the hall to wait for her.

As we sit, my head on Gale's shoulder, a familiar, loud footfall comes around the corner.

Peeta walks past us, not making eye contact, but as he passes, he makes the "come here" guesture with 2 fingers, then holds up 5. _Follow me in 5 minutes_.

Gale moves to stand up, but I hold his arm. "In a few..." I breathe into his ear.

Five minutes later, we've followed Peeta's route out the back door, to the stone wall where we sat 3 years ago after Rory was reaped. Peeta stands and embraces me, burying his face in my hair so he can whisper quickly in my ear. "There's a plan. You need to trust me, Rory, and Haymitch 100%. Your sister will come home. But this is the spark. Do your part as soon as the interviews are over."

He pulls away and looks me in the eyes. "OK?"

I shake my head no. "But what if she..." But what if she dies and I miss it? If I leave after the interviews, I'll miss the games. What if she doesn't make it? I can't leave the district, run away for some rebellion while the most important person in my world is at risk...

Gale looks back and forth between us, trying to deciepher what's happening.

Peeta knows I can't handle this. He pulls me to him again. "Trust me. Trust us."

Then he embraces Gale. Gale awkwardly hugs the shorter man back, and I see Peeta whisper a few words into his ear.

As they're embraced, Haymitch stumbles around the corner, and narrows his eyes. "Really boys?" His words are slurred.

Suddenly, Haymitch's arms are around me, too, and he barely whispers "you know the plan. It's how she'll get home." Then he shoves a handful of tiny slips of paper into my hand and stumbles away, dragging Peeta with him.

Gale and I are alone behind the justice center. I'm numb and motionless. He has to pry open my hand to see what Haymitch left me.

In my palm are around around 25 reaping slips. Haymitch must have grabbed them when he fell, just like after Rory's reaping.

Each one says, in perfect script "Primrose Everdeen."


	29. Trust

After the tribute train pulls away, we eat dinner with the Hawthornes. Everyone, even Posy, is somber, but my attention is focused on my mother She begins to retreat within herself, and hardly eats. I feel my anxiety rising, not just for Prim, but because I can see her slipping away right in front of me. We try to engage her in conversation, get her to connect, and at one point I find myself wishing she would just cry or scream...but she simply becomes more vacant. Her eyes are empty. Eventually, we leave her in the care of Hazelle. I'm in no mood (or emotional state) to nurse her back to life. Prim would know the right herbs and teas, but I do not. Before today, I hadn't understood how a person could just give up like that; numb herself to the world. But since the train pulled away with Prim on board I also find myself fighting to be present. There's no way I can fight for myself and my mother at the same time.

Gale drage me down the path home, and his anxiety over my emotional state is palpable.

"Catnip, do you want to watch the reapings recap?" he says as if I were fragile. I shake my head no and curl up on the couch, my head on my knees. My mind flashes back to the Quell reaping; and Gale's reaction. He was angry, throwing things and swearing. At the time I thought I understood, but today I have no fight left in me.

"Would you rather be back with your mother?" He begins to run his fingers up and down my back. I think about my mother, staring into space, refusing to acknowledge anyone around her. And the reason it's so painful hits me.

"No." Because I'll never be enough for her. She went numb when she lost my dad. Now she's catatonic over Prim...no matter what I do, she won't stay for me.

Tears prick behind my eyes again. "Gale...why won't she stay with me? Why does she go away like that? Why aren't I enough?" And suddenly I'm sobbing. I've lost my sister today, but I've also lost my mother. I lost her once when I was 11, and now I'm losing her again. No one has ever taken care of me, and that thought sends a sharp pain through my gut. She's abandoned me again when I need her the most.

Gale lets me sob for awhile, then whispers in my ear "Katniss, I need you. You can't go away from me either. I promise to stay by your side no matter what, but you need to stay with me, too. You're enough for me. Does that count for something? Can I be enough for you?"

And I realize that throughout my lowest moments, Gale had been a constant. While Peeta fed me once after my father died, Gale taught me to feed myself. When I was unsure about what I wanted, Gale patiently waited for me. And when I lost Madge, Gale was the one holding me up, keeping me sane. Yes, he's my husband, and I love him, but he's also the one person I have always been able to count on.

If nothing else, I owe it to him to fight to stay here.

My tears eventually run out, and I splash some water on my face and snuggle up to Gale in our bed. The night is thick with humidity, but I need to feel that he's there.

"What did Peeta say?" Gale whispers the question that I'm sure has been on his mind all day.

"This is it." I whisper back and bury my face in his shirt despite the heat. "And to trust him...he'll keep her safe. But this is it...for...the plans." My voice is barely audible.

Gale is almost buzzing with excitement. "That explains what he told me. He said to make sure you trust him."

We pause for a few minutes, attempting to find words to discuss the plan. We don't know if anyone is spying at our house. Our only safe spot is the woods, but it's too dark to attempt to sneak under the fence, if it's even off.

We're left to speak in code.

"When?" Gale finally says.

"After the interviews. We need to see what Prim says." I close my eyes and try to block out what happens the day after the interviews. I will miss the opening of the games. If Prim doesn't make it...

"She'll be fine." Gale knows what I'm thinking.

Sleep doesn't come easily that night. Even when I drift off, my dreams are riddled with nightmarish images of Prim's death.

* * *

In the morning, I drag myself out of bed for my shift at the Apothecary. We can't let on that the rebellion is upon us, so last night we agreed, in whispers, to live our usual lives. Since my mother can't function, that leaves me to run the Apothecary alone until the Tribute Parade tonight.

I'm not surprised when I find the building dark and silent. My mother hasn't even been home, and she's likely comatose at the Hawthornes. Pushing my resentment aside, I unlock the doors, pull the till out of the safe and settle behind the counter. I'm sure I look how I feel: my hair is disheveled, I have circles under my eyes, and I keep finding myself staring into space.

When no one has come into the shop by 10, I decide to occupy myself by putting away the order that arrived just before the reaping. In back of the pile, there's a small box stowed just under the counter. It doesn't look like one of the Capitol shipments, so I open in cautiously.

On top, there's a note in Prim's girlish handwriting:

_Katniss,_

_If you have this, I'm sorry. You know what happened. I put a month's worth of herb pills and teas in here. They're for mom. Make her take the 2 St. John's Wort/lemon balm pills 3 times a day, and the valerian tea at night or if she's really upset. If you run out, the instructions are in dad's book. Just add some lavender to the tea or it smells like vomit and she won't drink it._

_There should be enough if you need some, too._

_Katniss, I'm at peace with what happens. Take care of yourself and Gale and Mom._

_Love,_

_Prim_

The bag of tea and jar of capsules are beneath the letter. On the shelf are a few more days' worth of each. Luckily, we grow most of the ingredients out back, because I'm going to have to leave several months' worth for my mom when I leave the district.

I also grab a few pills and teabags for myself. There's no way I can tune out. I also tuck Prim's note into my pocket for safekeeping, proof that she thought about me even as she faced the reaping. It's a talisman against the depression I've been fighting since she left.

After school, Vick walks timidly into the Apothecary where I'm still hunched over the counter.

"My mom wanted me to bring you this. For you and Gale." Vick tends to be quiet around me, and he seems shy as he hands me the bundle of bread and store-bought cheese. He's usually surrounded by his much louder siblings, but alone he seems young and nervous. He looks like Gale and Rory, but without the height and strength; even at 13, I can tell he'll never have the "miner's build" that Seam residents talk about. Prim mentioned that Vick is smart and inquisitive; he's taken a few of the townie classes over the years, but no one is sure if he'll find a place there. Not with his dark hair and gray eyes.

I scribble down instructions for Hazelle (refusing to let go of Prim's note), and hand Vick the box of pills and tea for my mother. As he's thanking me, Posy dashes into the shop, much less joyful than normal. She's eating a bakery roll, and hands its pair to Vick.

Her gray eyes are serious. She stares at me hard. "You're worried about Prim, aren't you?"

I nod.

"Before he left, Rory told me that you can't worry. He'll take care of her." And with that, she's flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, grabbed her brother's arm, and she's gone.

When Gale gets off work, he brings some fresh cucumbers from the garden and a lump of cheese. We eat together and he keeps me company until the shops close for the tribute parade. I ache with loneliness for my sister and my mom, but Gale's presence is enough to keep me focused. We write silent notes to one another on scraps of paper, and toss them in the stove upstairs when we're finished. Tomorrow, we'll see if Hazelle can watch the shop while we go hunting. While out there, we'll confirm our plans, double check our packs, add in some extra food, and get our bows ready for our journey. I'm grateful that I replaced me threadbare hunting boots because the days ahead will be long and full of hard work.

We lock up the Apothecary at the appointed time, and head upstairs to watch the parade. I'd rather watch it in my own house, but walking through town as everyone gathers (and possibly asks about Prim or my mom) is too much for me. We'll sneak back to our house late tonight.

Before the parade, there's a brief recap of the reapings. I don't allow myself to focus on the other tributes. I'm vaguely aware that there are the usual slew of volunteers from 1, 2 and 4. A large 18-year-old from 6 refuses to acknowledge the escort. District 10 reaps a brother and sister. And in 12, Prim walks proudly onto the stage with Rory by her side.

The commentators spend most of the parade speculating about the relationship between Prim and Rory. They show Rory scowling in the audience between Haymitch and Peeta, and discuss how popular and handsome he's become as he's gotten older. They show clips of Rory's TV appearances from the past few years...many of which include Prim.

I'm sure Districts 1 and 2 are furious. The furor over Prim and Rory has overshadowed them. I settle as close to Gale as I can get, and he hangs onto me tightly.

When Prim's carriage enters the parade route, I nearly gasp. Not only have she and Rory all but flaunted their relationship for the Capitol, but their stylists have reinforced their closeness. Prim's dress matches Rory's suit from his own tribute parade. It glows and smolders in the dusk on-screen, lighting up Prim's blonde curls with red and orange. She glows as if the embers were coming from within her.

This similarity is not lost on Caesar or his producers, who show a video of Rory's matching outfit. If there was doubt about the two before, there is no doubt now. Caesar predicts that this is a message about deadliness: if Rory could win, Prim must be just as deadly.

There's a handful of us in District 12 who would beg to differ. If Prim is going to win (which is more or less what Peeta and Rory promised), it's going to be by survival and luck. She'll never kill.

* * *

The next 3 days stretch on. Gale and I finish our preparations, but can't let on that anything is different. We force ourselves into our normal routines. The district seems to be avoiding the Apothecary, so I'm left with even less to do than expected.

On the third day (Sunday) at noon, I'm stunned when my mother and Hazelle wander into the shop. My mom's dress is clean and pressed, and her eyes have shadows beneath them. But she is, for once, present. She lacks the vacancy she had on the day of the reaping.

"I'm sorry you've been stuck here, Katniss. Hazelle and I will take over for the rest of the day…why don't you go find Gale…" She trails off, confused, when I throw myself into her arms. I am rarely affectionate toward my mother, but the herbs must have taken effect, because she's here and alive. I don't have to worry about the shop after we leave Tuesday night after the interviews. I had shut myself off of the fact that she may not survive the coming weeks, but this gives me hope that she'll live. She awkwardly pats my back and I run back home.

When I burst in the door, Gale jumps. He wasn't expecting me. I explain what has happened, and vaccilate between relief (she's improved so vastly) and anger (that she abandoned me). While Gale and I work, I wrestle with these competing emotions. We spend the afternoon preserving some vegetables from our garden. We're not taking them with us, but we'll leave them at the Apothecary so my mom can hand them out if needed.

Because if we succeed in blowing up the tracks, there will be no more food trains in or out of District 12. I shiver a bit at the thought.

Mandatory viewing that night is brief, just a recap of each contestant's scores. Prim is not the lowest scoring contestant, but her score of 5 is close. Gale slips his arm around my waist like I'll run or shut down and whispers in my ear "trust Peeta." I take a deep breath and steel my nerves.

That night, I need the valerian tea to sleep.

* * *

The day of the interviews, I'm a nervous wreck. I'd watched the shop and done the ordering and books for most of Monday to distract myself, and my mother has given me Interview Day off.

Gale feigns sick from work, and we spend most of the day at Rory's house, playing with Posy and Vick, always conscious of the fact that we may never see them again. The Capitol may capture or kill us, and even if we survive that, we may not survive in the wilderness. We can't say goodbye to them; they're too young to understand or keep a secret, so we play chess with Vick and "Capitol Party" with Posy. Hazelle gazes at us curiously throughout the day, but nods when we offer to stay for dinner.

After dinner, Hazelle hugs us each tightly, and I feel as if she knows our plans. Tears form in the corners of my eyes as we walk hand in hand back to our little house in the Seam. I look around at the place I've called home since I was 18. It's the first place I've felt I could do more than survive; that I didn't need to spend all my energy keeping other people alive. Gale and I have supported each other here through good times and bad. We've hosted family and planned a rebellion. I don't expect the burst of nostalgia that overcomes me as I look around our house and remember Posy and Vick playing in front of the fireplace and Hazelle hanging wash in the yard. When I was 12, I preferred the Hawthornes' over my own house because of the joyful noise from the kids and the constant, bustling presence of Hazelle. And now this place is our sanctuary, where we're free to build our life together. Will we feel the same freedom in the woods? How long will we be out there? Weeks? Months? Forever? Gale seems to be thinking the same thing as he comes behind me and wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on my head.

"I love you, you know. No matter what happens, we'll get through it together."

To whatever Capitol lackey has been assigned to listen to our house, I'm sure it sounds like encouragement in the face of my sister's death. But I know what he means. We don't know what the next few days will bring, but we'll get through whatever it is together. And if we don't make it…well…that will happen together, too.

The TV turns itself on, pulling us out of our moment. We begin nervously straightening up the house as the interviews begin. To be honest, neither of us are good housekeepers, and we don't want to leave a big mess if someone needs to get in here. To be even more honest, we're avoiding our emotions, fuelled by our own nervous energy. Sometimes we're too much alike for our own good.

By the time Caesar calls Prim's name, the house is tidy and we're each sipping tea to quell our anxiety. The commentators chatter and speculate about Prim's relationship with Rory. She, of course, looks radiant in a gray dress that brings out the blue in her eyes and the blonde of her hair. As she walks toward Caesar, the bottom of her dress begins to glow, then flash. It almost looks as if sparks are shooting out the bottom.

"Primrose Everdeen, a beautiful name for a beautiful young woman!" Caesar grasps her hand and ushers her into her chair. With a chuckle he says "I don't need to worry about catching on fire here, do I?"

She laughs confidently. "Oh no, Caesar, it's completely safe. Cinna says it's modelled after a type of firework that Capitol children play with, but there's no real danger." She smiles, and they cut to Cinna in the audience, who nods when he catches himself on screen.

"Ah yes, I do believe we call them 'sparklers'. My own children love to play with them during parties."

Prim nods. "Yes, sparklers. We don't have them in District 12, but I wish everyone in the Districts could see them in real life. Cinna showed me some on the roof the other day, and they were breathtaking. Perfect for a party." My sister is confident, but she also seems odd. Clearly Peeta has coached her to say some of these things, but I don't understand where she's going with this.

Caesar continues the interview as Prim settles into her chair. "Well, Primrose, the whole nation wants to know a few things about you! District 12 has made quite a splash in the past few years, and now you're again the center of attention. So tell me, what is the relationship between you and the dashing Rory Hawthorne?" Caesar's enhanced smile flashes across the screen as he asks the question. Every commentator in the Capitol must be waiting for the answer.

"Rory and I have been inseparable since we were children." Prim smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "For the past few years, he's been my boyfriend, but that doesn't begin to explain what we mean to each other."

"Ah, I thought I saw something romantic there." Caesar winks at the camera.

The smile on Prim's face fades a little. "But it's a little tragic, don't you think? That my name would also be chosen?"

Caesar nods sympathetically. "Ah, what bad luck. Truly the odds are not in your favor. All the more reason to play to win, correct?"

"I really don't think I'll make it out of that arena alive." Prim states this quietly but confidently.

"Whatever do you mean, Primrose? Surely you have the same chance as any other tribute." Caesar glances to the side at someone off-screen.

"Well, I recently learned that people in the Capitol are…jealous…when their victors find love in the districts. They don't like to share, you see. And this is probably the easiest way to get rid of me."

Gale clutches at my hand. My 16-year-old sister just told all of Panem that the reaping was fixed.

"No, no, no, no, no…" I murmur under my breath. "Don't do this, Prim." She's nailing her own pine box.

And what will it mean for the rest of us? Gale's family? Mine? Even the Mellarks?

Caesar is, for probably the first time in his life, frozen speechless.

Prim continues, making direct eye contact with the camera. "Of course, if I win, that would prove that theory wrong. After all, why would someone fix the reaping?" She smiles as if it were all a joke.

_Trust Peeta, trust Peeta_ I chant in my head. Then it clicks.

Prim has just given President Snow an ultimatum. If she dies, especially if she's killed by the arena, she's shown that the President kills 16-year-old girls for his own purposes.

If he chooses to let her live, she'll be discredited and thought of as a nutcase. But she'll be alive. She's called the president's bluff. And she's made herself a sympathetic tribute, likely winning herself sponsorships.

Caesar gapes at her for a moment, then stumbles over his next question, glancing down at the cards in his hands as he shuffles them. "Um...Primrose...what does that...that wouldn't..."

He shuffles the cards again and shakes his head a bit, the puts a finger to his ear to hear his earpiece better. "One more question then, Primrose!" He recovers his smile. "Any messages for the other tributes?"

"I think we're all in the same position. Whatever we have to do isn't personal, it's about survival." Prim's eyes turn midnight blue as she speaks. "I would tell everyone not to waste whatever chances they've been given. If there is anything you've been waiting to do, do it now. This is the time. We don't know what will happen tomorrow."

She isn't talking to the other tributes. She's talking to us. And to the other rebels.

In our tiny Seam house, in the poorest district in Panem, Gale and I are silent. The room buzzes with adrenaline. Prim has done what we've been waiting for since Peeta's games.

District 12 will not be alone in the rebellion.

Prim has just lit a spark.

* * *

**Eek, I'm super excited about the next few chapters...there's a rebellion happening, a Prim to follow, some Galeniss fluff, and much, much more. I promise they'll be super exciting. Tell me what you think!**


	30. Rebellion

After Prim's interview, the rest of mandatory viewing is a blur.

_She'll be OK, trust Peeta. She'll be OK, trust Peeta._ I chant to myself, over and over, repeating those words to quell the growing anxiety in my stomach. Gale and I grip each other's hands, knowing that the rebellion is moments away. We've been preparing for this moment for almost 4 years. Our fathers prepared even before that, and now we're responsible for setting off the rebellion. My stomach threatens to release the tea I drank earlier. I don't know if I'm nervous about what we have to do tonight, my sister, or both.

I suddenly feel incredibly young. I have to remind myself that I am an adult; I'm not a scared 11-year-old thrust into responsibility against her will. I'm 20 years old, and I've chosen this position. I'm not alone. I have Gale with me, my best friend and husband. And I have the planning and support of an entire rebellion, even Madge.

When the TV shuts off, I take a deep breath.

_Prim will be OK, trust Peeta._

Gale and I meet each other's eyes. We've had our boots on for hours, our packs are stocked in the woods, and our bows are ready. It's time.

"No matter what, we're in this together." I hope Gale can't hear my voice shake.

He squeezes my hand. "Together." As we close the door to our house behind us, he kisses the top of my head. I hope we look like any other Seam couple, going for a walk after mandatory viewing. After all, my sister is a tribute, and it's reasonable to assume we'd need some air after the interviews. As we head toward the Meadow, our neighbors file back to their houses, refusing to make eye contact. They know who we are, and don't know what to say to us. I hope this will work to our advantage.

When we reach the far side of the Meadow, we're alone. The loose section of fence is just meters away, beckoning us. It's dark out, which will conceal our movements, but next to our bows in a hollowed out log are 2 sets of night-vision glasses that Haymitch smuggled from the Capitol. The hardest part of the plan will be getting out of the district and to our log. From there we'll be on a familiar path and we'll be able to see well.

After a few minutes to assure ourselves that we're truly unnoticed in the field, we duck under the fence. Our footsteps are silent in the woods as we make our way toward our bows. Animals rustle around in the brush, and birds call out, but the woods are otherwise peaceful. We free our hands from one another when we reach our log, and each pull a sheath of arrows over our shoulder, place our glasses on our face, and grab our bows. Gale has a small pack on his back as well: this is how we'll detonate the explosives.

The glasses are genius. I've never had a chance to use them in the darkness before, but the clarity with which I can see our surroundings is astonishing. Gale grins back at me. This is going to make our job much simpler.

The detonation point is a bit of a walk from the district, and we continue on in silence, bows at the ready. Ahead of me, Gale stops, and motions me behind him, to guard his back for animals.

I hold my breath, hoping to hear whatever it is that startled Gale. There is a steady rustling in the distance, far larger than the raccoons and opossums we've seen already.

We freeze where we are, arrows nocked, and wait. Whatever it is we're hearing is large. My mind flies to the possibilities: cougar, bear, deer...we've taken each of these animals down before, but never in the dark. I can hear the noises getting closer.

The footsteps of this animal (or animals?) are steady and cautious. Almost...human. I think Gale realizes a split second before I do, because he mutters a swear under his breath. Peacekeepers.

An advantage of 8 years of hunting together is that Gale and I often know what the other is thinking. Tonight, we stand still, bows at the ready. We hope that they will miss us and simply walk past through the woods, unaware of our presence. My greatest fear (and probably Gale's) is that they'll see us. If we're caught (out of the district, at night, with weapons), we'll be executed. They may not even wait until morning. So if we're spotted, we have only one option: kill or be killed.

I take a silent, shaky breath and a quiet step back so that our shoulders are just barely touching, reminding myself that we're in this together. The footsteps get closer. Through the glasses, everything has a greenish tinge.

Minutes pass that feel like hours. My arm begins to cramp where it draws back my bowstring, but we sand as still as the statues that decorate the Justice Building.

As the footsteps get closer, we see two peacekeepers, engaged in quiet conversation as they patrol. I can hear their murmurings as they joke with each other.

They're only a few yards away when they notice us. Each is wearing his own pair of glasses and has a gun holstered on his hip. First, the hawk-faced peacekeeper stops dead in his tracks and whips his arm out, gaining the attention of the chubby peacekeeper next to him. It's clear that neither expected to encounter another human in the woods tonight, let alone two, each with a bow drawn.

But here I am, face to face with two peacekeepers.

Next to me, Gale swears again. We stare down the frozen peacekeepers.

Hawk-face is the first to recover, and begins to scramble in his belt. My decision is so quick that I don't even realize I've made it. If he's grabbing for a communication device, we'll have half of Panem after us. If he's reaching for his gun, we'll be dead in seconds.

So I release the arrow I've drawn - directly into Hawk-face's eye. He crumples to the ground. A split second later, Gale releases his own arrow, taking down the second peacekeeper.

We stand in stunned silence for a moment, a second set of arrows drawn, listening for more peacekeepers. There's no sign that the two we've just killed have anyone else with them, nor does anyone know what's happened. As the danger fades, I realize what I've just done.

I've killed someone.

The hand on my bowstring begins to tremble and I lower my bow, putting my arrow back in the quiver. Gale does the same.

"You OK, Catnip?" His hand finds mine in the darkness, squeezing tightly. I squeeze back, not trusting my voice. "Let's go then." And we begin our silent march toward the trestle we'll destroy.

The walk is long, and I spend most of my time processing what has just happened. I killed someone. I knew it was a possibility. Haymitch and Peeta often reminded us that the rebellion was treason. An act of war. War means death. People were likely to die in this process, but I had never considered that my arrow could be the cause. I wonder if Gale is feeling the same.

We reach the trestle and pull our tools from Gale's pack. His time in the mines has given him an intricate knowledge of detonation, so I let him work at putting together fuses and timers while I stand watch. The adrenaline rushing through me makes me jump at every rustle of the leaves or change in the air as Gale works.

Our silence is finally broken as he attaches the detonation devices to the explosives. Two years of smuggling materials has amassed us a remarkable pile.

"Catnip, as soon as I set this, we have five minutes. We need to be at least half a mile away. Get ready to run."

His nickname for me feels strange and out of place in light of what we're doing. But I take a deep breath and prepare myself.

Gale looks at me for a moment. "Take a head start. Your legs are shorter."

"No." I can't imagine letting him out of my sight. "You said together, right? No matter what?"

He breathes deep. "Ok, I'm counting backward from five, start running when I get to one."

"Five." He stares at the wires in his hands.

"Four."

"Three." He stands, still holding the wires.

"Two." He aims his feet and takes a deep breath.

"One." He connects the wires on the crude device and grabs my hand. We run.

Our path during the next five minutes isn't as familiar, so it takes all my concentration to keep from stumbling.

We no longer care about keeping silent; if someone were to stop us now, we'd all be dead. Gale runs ahead of me, ducking under branches, and I can hear his panting. Despite the fact that I have decent stamina, I'm out of breath as well. It feels as though we're sprinting the entire five minutes.

The explosion is even larger than I expected. It jolts me out of my run, and we both stop and turn to watch. Gale's arm snakes around my waist as the forest is lit up as if it were daytime. The sound is deafening. At one point, I was concerned that no one in town would hear it, but now I'm confident that all of District 12 is awake. The blast is to act as a signal to everyone else. Within an hour, townspeople will begin to overpower peacekeepers and seize communications. By the end of tomorrow, District 12 will govern itself.

Once the western sky becomes a steady glow, we turn back to our planned path. Our packs are north of the district, and that's where we're headed. We'll need to reach our cave before morning and set up camp. We walk hand-in-hand in silence.

* * *

Almost immediately after reaching our cave, we both fall asleep. It's not the safest choice, but we're both physically and emotionally exhausted. After a few years together, we don't usually sleep entwined like we did when we were first married. But tonight we fall asleep nestled together in spite of the heat, grateful to be alive and together.

I wake up with Prim on my mind. The Hunger Games started at 10am, and she could be dead, injured or suffering. I can't even watch what's happening, let alone help her. The thoughts begin to overflow as I awaken. Then the memories of last night hit me: I killed someone. We blew up the train tracks into town. And District 12, the only home I've ever known, is likely rebelling against the government. I feel my breaths coming faster and tears sting the back of my eyes as panic rushes over my body.

I reach for Gale and my hand comes up empty, so I open my eyes. The sun is bright outside the cave entrance, and I drag myself to my feet. Our packs are against the back wall of the cave, ready in case we need to run. We filled our canteens in a stream last night, so I gulp some water as I get my bearings. I know we're going to be here for a few nights, and I mentally list the things I'll need to do to make the cave more comfortable: some pine needles will make our bed more forgiving; we could find some fresh fruit to eat, and we need to disguise the cave entrance in case Peacekeepers search for us on foot.

Gale sits outside the cave, his back to me. His bow lies next to him, and he's sitting idle (which is rare – Gale is always doing something). I grab my bow from just inside the entrance and sink down next to him. He acknowledges my presence by putting an arm around me, but doesn't say anything. His expression is brooding and serious. From the directions my own mind has gone, I can guess what he's thinking about: the rebellion, Prim, and what happened last night.

As we sit in silence, I notice dried blood on my boots. I fight the urge to vomit.

Gale breaks the silence. "She's OK, Catnip. They promised."

"I'm trying to believe that." I glance at the blood on my boots and can't stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. "We killed them. The Peacekeepers."

"Canus and Ursus." He doesn't make eye contact with me. "Darius told me after Canus saw us in my house that time."

Knowing their names does nothing to help my anxiety.

The sick feeling in my chest grows as I think about their faces just before we shot them. I envision their families back in the Capitol or District 2 or wherever...they have parents and friends and lives...

Gale must see the look on my face, because he turns and grabs my shoulders so he can look me in the eye. "We had no choice. It was us or them. Do not beat yourself up about this."

I nod.

"Remember what the Capitol has done. They reaped our friends and family, killed our fathers, killed Madge..." He sounds more like he's convincing himself than me, then he pulls me into his chest and kisses my head. "Come on, let's go get cleaned up in that creek, then we can start figuring out our camp." After smelling him and myself, I have to agree that he's right.

While we bathe and clean our clothes, we discuss the plan. Gale doesn't think that they'll do ground searches in this area for a couple of days. We just need to steer clear of the nighttime hovercraft searches, and stay out of sight from overhead during the day. The original plan was to stay in place for 3-5 days, but Gale believes that the Capitol may interrogate Peeta and Rory. Just in case Peeta lets any part of the plan out, we'll wait longer, throwing the Capitol off of our trail even further.

When we leave in a week, Gale has found a roundabout path to the area where he wants us to settle. When we made these plans, we thought about returning to town after the rebellion succeeds (Gale and Thom figured out some kind of signal). But after Madge's death, we decided we'd rather live on our own in the wilderness. Gale gave his mother a coded map in case she and the kids need to find us at some point. The original plan involved Prim and Rory joining us as well.

By the end of the day, we have a plan in place, our cave is far more comfortable and we're well hidden (including some of Gale's snares guarding the entrance from animals and people). We even found a thicket of berries to join our dinner of venison jerky and crackers.

As the week passes we sleep in shifts and gather food to supplement what's in our packs. It rains off and on, and the dreariness begins to wear on me. My mind is always on my sister, wondering where she is and questioning what we've done. My nightmares have worsened. In the worst of them, my own sister is at the end of my arrow, and I awake screaming her name.

On a few nights, we hear the hums of hovercrafts overhead, but they don't seem to find us. The constant threat of discovery puts us on edge. We're both nervous and jumpy, especially because the Capitol has not yet searched the area on foot (as far as we can tell). This makes me anxious, but Gale argues that it must mean the rebellion has spread to other districts and the Capitol is too busy to track us down.

By the end of the week, everything we own is damp, including our spirits, and we're bickering nonstop.

On our last night, we pack our few belongings and pull out the map. Our planned campsite is about a week's journey to the southwest, somewhere between districts 11 and 12. Our hope is to build a shelter over the next few months. The winters should be milder down there, and we're confident in our survival abilities.

While Gale is going over our provisions, I open the map and spread it on the ground in front of the cave. There's enough light from the sunset to plot the next days' trek. I'm not as familiar with the map as Gale, but as I look over it I feel like it makes little sense. Sure, the writing is both Peeta's and Gale's, but there's more trails marked than I remembered. The original trail to the South runs parallel to the new trail Gale recently marked (our alternative so we don't get found out). But there's a third trail marked, going North. At the end of that trail is a circled spot labeled "13".

I show Gale, and he looks equally confused. "I haven't seen this before, but it's Peeta's handwriting..."

Along the side of the map, in tiny handwriting, is the phrase "please trust me –P."

Gale meets my eyes, his face full of hope and excitement for the first time in days. "I think we should go."

"Go where? On some unplanned adventure toward a demolished district?"

"Peeta said to trust him. I assume he knew we'd find this."

I already have my doubts about this whole situation, but heading off into the unknown is making me even more anxious. "We're not wandering around the wilderness, Gale. We know where we want to settle...our moms and your siblings know where to find us if they need us...we're not changing the plans now."

"Worst case scenario, we get there and there's nothing there. It's what, a week's walk from here? We can always turn around and head back and settle in long before winter." He's so excited I know he's not listening to what I have to say. "I just want to see what's there."

"No." The lump in my throat keeps me from finishing my thought. As long as we're here in familiar territory, or even in planned territory, I have a chance of finding out about my sister. But if we trek into some unknown area, the odds of knowing about Prim start to shrink.

Gale steps back from his excitement for a moment and seems to realize I'm getting upset. "It's Prim, isn't it."

All I can do is nod and hold back my tears.

Gale puts an arm around me and draws me to his chest. "When Peeta said he'd keep Prim safe, he knew about the map, right? And he said to trust him, right?"

"Yes." I croak out. "But..." But no matter where we are, I won't know about Prim. The only way to know about Prim is to go back to the district, and I don't want to do that. I'm done with living under the Capitol's thumb. The only way I'd return is if there was a guarantee that the rebellion had succeeded. And even then...at least going to 13 (or what remains of it) will distract me for a few weeks...

"Katniss, we're in this together, right? I'm not going without you. But I want to go."

"But Prim..."

"We'll find some way to find out what happens to her." His voice is hesitant. "They promised, right?"

Gale wants to go to 13 for the adventure, of course, but also in the hopes that there's something there. More rebels? A way to get in touch with Rory? A way to keep the rebellion going? He's always wanted to do this: survive in the wilderness, see more than just the area around District 12. But I hear in his voice that he's also unsure about what comes next for us. A trek up north is a distraction for him as well.

I want to fight. I want to personally march to the Capitol and shoot the president in the eye. But my worry for my sister and guilt over killing those peacekeepers keep that rage in check.

"Right." I know I don't sound enthusiastic. "Together though, right? No matter what?"

He smiles a little. "Then let's get some sleep."

* * *

We follow Peeta's path for 10 days. I initially want to keep up a steady pace, but Gale points out that if we're being tracked, the Capitol is expecting a steady pace from us. So some days we walk for 10 hours, some for 4. We conceal ourselves beneath tree covers and under overhangs as often as possible. On the 3rd day, we shoot a mountain lion before it can attack. On the 6th day, I'm battling an awful case of poison ivy and my feet ache in my new shoes. We bathe in the river in the evenings, and hide ourselves as well as we can in the brush, in caves, and under trees. At first, we bicker back and forth out of anxiety, exhaustion and annoyance. But by the 7th day, we've fallen back into our mostly comfortable silence.

I find myself growing simultaneously more anxious and excited as we near our destination: a spot on the map with just a circled number 13. Some nights I'm sure Peeta has led us to some sort of way to join back up with the rebellion. Other nights I remember how unstable and shaky he was just after his win, and wonder if the obsession with 13 is part of that. But I remind myself that I do trust Peeta, and he's convinced Gale (who doesn't trust anyone) that he's worthy of trust.

On day 10, we hesitantly approach what appears to be the marked spot. All we find is an empty field, devoid of signs of life. Confused, we duck back into the woods and re-examine the map. We're in the right spot, but nothing's there.

Gale is furious. As he throws things and kicks at logs, I hear words like "wild goose chase" and swears directed at Peeta, the Capitol, District 13, Haymitch and even Rory. I feel anger boil up inside of me as well, but I push it down. Anger won't help us. Instead, I begin to feel hopeless as I set up our tent. We've come all this way, escaped the Capitol...I'm not sure what I've hoped we'd find here, but we've found...nothing.

What will we do next? Probably walk south (2 weeks worth of walking at this point) and set up house somewhere in the wilderness. Maybe sneak back into the district and find out what happened to Prim. But for the most part, for the rest of our lives, it's just me and Gale.

In my mind, I've given up hope that Prim is still alive. The games have been going on for more than 2 weeks and it's surely down to the last few tributes. As much as I've wanted to believe that Rory and Peeta have somehow pulled off a miracle, I can't see her surviving to the final fight. She's smart and sweet and beautiful, but she's not a killer.

The sun is almost set when Gale calms down and joins me next to the tent. We sit quietly in the stillness.

Too much stillness. The birds have stopped chirping. My hackles are up.

Overhead a hovercraft begins to circle the area. We're immediately on our feet, bows at the ready, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

On its third pass over us, the hovercraft begins to lower into the field.

Gale looks at me desperately. "Run" he says, "I'll lead them the other direction."

For a moment I panic. I can't survive out here alone, without Gale. I can't survive without Gale, period. "No." I yell over the hum of the hovercraft. "You said together. We survive or we go down fighting. Together."

He takes a deep breath and nods a me, and we take our places, arrows strung in our bows. Gale's at my back. We're standing our ground. There's no way we can escape at this point, not without being tracked down. We'll go down, but we'll go down fighting.

There's an odd moment of clarity as we stand our ground. I realize in that moment why Gale and I work, and it's not in spite of our mutual stubbornness; it's because of it. We're both fighters, him and I. I've spent my whole life fighting, but that fight has been directed by survival, never passion. Instead, I've learned to hold every emotion, including my fight, too gently in my hands, afraid to truly embrace it.

Gale has spent his life doing the exact opposite. His passion and fight, once directed, go as far and as fast as they can, burning everything in their path. But me, I temper him, helping him hold that fire more gently in his hand. And he directs my anger, my fire, aiming it at exactly the right places, rather than letting it diffuse. And together, we work.

Of course, that's when we're not fighting off a hovercraft with nothing more than a pair of bows.


	31. The Hovercraft

We hold our position just under the cover of the trees, ready to release our arrows at whoever steps out of the hovercraft. Nothing happens for a long moment.

A loudspeaker crackles to life. "Katniss, put your bow down."

I immediately drop my bow because the voice belongs to my sister.

Beside me, Gale keeps his aim at the hovercraft door. "It could be a trap" he murmurs to me.

"Gale, if you stop aiming at us, I'll come out and prove it's me." My sister's voice again comes from the hovercraft, and Gale hesitantly lowers his weapon. He doesn't drop it to the ground as I have, but he's no longer aiming at the door of the hovercraft.

"She could be prisoner or something...be ready to pick yours back up" he whispers, tension in his shoulders.

Prim's voice again comes over the loudspeaker. "Ok, I'm coming out. Peeta and Haymitch are coming with me."

_Peeta? Haymitch?_ I'm beyond confused.

The door to the hovercraft creaks open, and Prim steps out wearing a gray jumpsuit. Before I can think, I'm running toward her, embracing her, holding her face between my hands. It is her, she's alive, she's healthy, she's happy to see me. We both start crying.

"We looked for you for days and Peeta was worried you didn't find his map, so we looked at where you planned –"

"Prim! I thought about you every second. How are you here-"

We're stumbling over each others' words when I finally notice Peeta and Haymitch. Each wears the same drab jumpsuit as Prim, and hold powerful looking weapons. Gale still has his bow strung and stares at our reunion, confusion etched across his face.

A voice booms from behind Prim, and a dark-skinned man wearing military regalia pokes his head out of the hovercraft. "We have 2 minutes, get them on board."

"This is Boggs" Prim introduces us. It appears that Gale and I need no introduction.

Peeta and Haymitch begin herding us onto the hovercraft. Gale looks toward our packs and tent.

I ask "do we have time to get our packs?"

The military man shakes his head. "Won't need them. We've got it all taken care of. Just grab what's irreplaceable."

We run back to our camp, and I grab the smaller pack containing my father's book, our maps, and my supplies from the apothecary. While we're out of earshot Gale remarks, "I don't like this...we dont know what the situation is, keep your bow in hand. We can always grab Prim and take her with us." He knows I won't leave without her now that we've seen her.

As we approach the hovercraft, Boggs' eyes fall on Gale, who has handed me back my bow. "Can't allow unauthorized weapons in the passenger bay. You'll have to turn those in."

Gale and I both stiffen. It's one thing to join these people. Peeta and Haymitch look like they're trusting of the hovercraft, and Prim looks healthy and happy. But neither of us are giving up our weapons.

"No." Gale says the word with finality. If we come, we come with our weapons.

Peeta sighs and steps in. "Boggs, they have no idea what's going on, or who you are. Their weapons are meant for long range combat anyway...can we bring them on board and deal with the bows later?"

The man stares evenly at Peeta as he mulls this over. "You trust them?" He finally asks, looking to Haymitch.

"With my life" responds Haymitch, to my surprise. Then, because he's Haymitch he has to add "just don't piss either of them off. They might mistake you for a deer." And with a grin and a wink in my direction, he climbs past Boggs and into the hovercraft.

Prim helpfully adds "if you trust Haymitch with a weapon, you can definitely trust Katniss and Gale."

Peeta looks to the sky as my sister and Haymitch destroy his attempt to smooth over the situation. To Boggs he says "I will take personal responsibility if anything goes wrong."

Boggs looks at us doubtfully but ushers us onto the hovercraft. "We need to get out of here now. Your sister is a high-profile refugee, and we need to get her back to the secure area as soon as possible."

Gale interjects "so you brought the most wanted person in Panem out here with only a drunk and Peeta to defend her? Sounds smart."

Boggs looks him up and down and ignores his statement. "Find a seat and strap in. It will be a short ride, but we'll try to explain before we land."

"Land where?" Gale is still suspicious, and Rory is nowhere in sight.

"Peeta?" Boggs looks to our friend to explain.

"District 13." Peeta says this with a smile that I rarely see from him. "To make a long story short, District 13 has been here since the Dark Days, living underground. The Capitol just wanted us to believe they were gone. They've been helping Haymitch and some other victors with the rebellion. After the interviews, we evacuated your sister and several other tributes and victors. We've all been living here since."

"Living is a relative term, considering it's a dry district." Haymitch adds wryly.

Peeta continues "most of Panem is currently rebelling. You'll get the full run down when we get in."

"Where's Rory?" Gale is taking in this information and looking around the hovercraft.

Boggs interjects "Soldier Hawthorne is back in 13, working on some special projects. We have radioed ahead that we located you, and he will meet us at the hovercraft bay."

"Soldier Hawthorne?" Gale raises an eyebrow.

Prim pipes up "as soon as you turn 14 in District 13, you're a soldier. Hence, giving Haymitch weapons. You guys will start training tomorrow, too. And you'll get to wear these lovely uniforms." Her voice holds a mild amount of sarcasm. She looks to Peeta "Delly is going to be so mad."

A cloud of worry falls over Peeta's face, but he replaces it with grim determination. "That's the next order of business." He looks to us. "Thirteen doesn't have the resources to evacuate everyone, especially because all the districts but 1 and 2 are rebelling. However, they're tracking down a few high profile targets and bringing them here for safety."

"They call it 'extracting' like they're rotten teeth" supplies Haymitch mockingly.

Boggs looks like he's had about enough of Haymitch today.

"So within the next few days, they're going to try to get our parents, siblings and Delly and bring them here." Peeta looks mildly put out. "Our resources have been dedicated to finding the two of you up to this point."

"About that..." Boggs looks at Gale and I. "District 13 has spent a lot of time and resources picking up rebels before the Capitol can get to them. No one has ever eluded us as long as the two of you before." There's a level of respect in his voice. "We may need to talk about your strategies later."

Prim grins. "They're a little annoyed with you, but I think they also want to learn your techniques."

Haymitch snorts. "They've been a pain in my ass for years."

"Mine, too." Prim says happily. "I'm just glad we've found them so they can continue to be a pain in our asses."

"In case you can't tell, Prim and Haymitch are best friends now, and he's teaching her everything he knows." Peeta looks like he's been putting up with them for far too long.

"Anyone else we need to extract from 13? We're hoping to get the mission off the ground in the next few days." Interrupts Boggs.

I think it over...I never had many friends. Gale's friends are all needed for the rebellion, and will need to stay in 12. My only close friend is dead, but...

"Madge's mom. She might be with my mom, but I'm not sure where she's been staying since..."

Peeta looks uncomfortable again. "No one's seen her since the execution. Nick and my dad tried to find her, but..."

The words are unspoken. She's dead or imprisoned. Nothing we can do.

The hovercraft lurches a bit as we land, and moves along the ground toward an open hanger. Once inside, the entire craft moves along a sloping shaft, down beneath the ground.

"Peeta?" I'm sure my voice is edgy. "When you said that 13 was underground...were you speaking literally?"

"Yep."

Gale looks concerned about my well-known claustrophobia, and I breathe deeply to quell my panic. Our hands intertwine, and Prim pats my shoulder soothingly while saying "you get used to it."

Easy for her to say when she's not fending off a panic attack. I try not to think about the mounds of stone above us.

Soon the hovercraft stops in what must be the hovercraft bay, and we're directed to take off our flight harnesses. Boggs stops us as we pick up our bows. "Nope, these can't go into the residential area. I can get them into the armory, and you can discuss with your Captain what will happen from there.

"You said Rory will be here to meet us, correct?" Gale speaks to Boggs with a level of suspiciousness.

"Yes."

"We'll give you the bows when we see my brother." He's a few inches taller than Boggs, and pulls himself up to his full stature, arms crossed. In the past few years, Gale has rarely used this particular tactic, but the stress of the day is grating on him. I fight the urge to grab his hand or stroke his back to calm him down. I'm not sure if I trust these people either.

Boggs looks him up and down. "The posturing will not be necessary, Mr. Hawthorne. You may hold your bows until you see Soldier Hawthorne, then I will take them to the armory."

"They're family heirlooms" I interject. "We will need them back when we leave."

"Mrs. Hawthorne, I can promise you that if you choose to leave District 13, we will allow you to have your weapons back." The way he says my name indicates that he sees me as an accessory to Gale's power, not a powerful person in my own right.

I let him think this.

We step off the hovercraft and look around the large hangar. Prim, Peeta and Haymitch stand to the side, conferring with more uniformed people. From behind us, there is a shout, and Rory runs through the rows. He ducks under low-hanging wires and dodges soldiers. My worries about prying the bow from Gale's hands (to keep the peace with Boggs) fade away as he shoves it into my hands. I hand both bows to Boggs, who nods with a smile and instructs a nearby soldier to take them to the armory. As much as I distrust what's going on, Boggs is growing on me.

The reunion between the oldest Hawthornes is, frankly, adorable. Gale picks up Rory and they pound on each others' backs. Prim and Peeta grin at each other and Haymitch rolls his eyes.

Prim shoots at Haymitch "so who was more excited? Me and Katniss or those two?"

"I still think you girls were more excited, Sweetheart. I win the pool." I try not to be a bit jealous that Prim has usurped my sarcastic Haymitch nickname.

Peeta cuts in, "and I warned you not to let Haymitch be the judge if you're betting." The three of them laugh as Gale and Rory return to their usual stoic public selves.

"If we're done with this little reunion, you four" Boggs points to the victors and Prim, "need to get back to command. Our new arrivals need to register and get settled."

Prim dashes over to give me and Gale another hug, and Rory and Peeta join in. We're ushered into a small office just off the hangar labelled "Refugee Registration and Acclimation." We sit down across from a frazzled looking woman. She wears the same gray jumpsuit as everyone else.

She types into a computer without making eye contact and barks orders at us. I widen my eyes a little at Gale as she rapidly shoots off questions such as our birthdates, district of origin and wedding date. I supply the date of our toasting.

She corrects me when I state my name as Katniss Everdeen. "In District 13, all women take their husband's last name upon marriage, Mrs. Hawthorne. So in the official records, you will be Katniss Hawthorne."

I catch Gale as he tries to suppress a chuckle, knowing how hard I've fought to keep my name.

"Prior occupations?"

"I worked at my mother's Apothecary and did the bookkeeping." I begin to wonder if I should mention my hunting...but it feels like these people wouldn't appreciate my blatant flouting of the law.

"And I was a coalminer, now I work on the municipal crew."

"Alright, Mrs. Hawthorne, you are being assigned to the hospital wing as a nursing assistant. I believe your sister has been placed down there as an apprentice." She taps further into her computer. Gale's eyes sparkle again, knowing exactly how long I'd last as a nurse.

"Um, I'd rather not...I wasn't a healer back in 12...can I do something else? Accounting or..." My voice becomes quiet... "hunting or something?"

Her eyes burn into me. "We need people to clean, do laundry, or serve meals. Would any of those occupations be satisfactory?" Apparently few people argue with their assignments in 13, because she has a mocking tone in her voice.

"Wherever you need me is fine" I mutter.

"You're on meal serving duty." She taps into the computer again. "And Mr. Hawthorne, you're assigned to the maintenance crew." She glares at him, as if daring him to argue with her. He shrugs. "Of course, you'll be on work duty for only about 4 hours a day. You'll spend another 2-4 hours on your military training. After your first 2 months, you'll deploy to wherever you're most needed for 4-6 week stints, assuming we're still in active rebellion. Lately we've been deploying people earlier, as needed, so be prepared."

At the words "active rebellion" Gale has perked up and opened his mouth to ask more questions. I mouth "Peeta and Haymitch" at him. We'll ask them about the rebellion. I don't trust this woman.

She continues further. "As a married couple, you'll be placed in separate squads to avoid conflicts of interest, but you'll go through training together. Of course, whenever Mrs. Hawthorne becomes pregnant, she will be excused from training and deployment until 6 weeks after the child is born."

"You don't need to worry about it." I mutter under my breath.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" She has stopped typing for the moment and stares at me hard.

I find my voice again. "You don't need to worry about that. We don't intend to have children."

She looks confused. "You'll undergo a physical as part of your orientation. If you are capable of having children, it is your duty as a married couple. No pregnancy prevention methods are available here." She must see the panic in my eyes, because she softens a bit. "I realize you come from a different environment. I assure you that your children are safe in District 13. Our population has dwindled due to war and sickness...we need all the children we can get."

I think gratefully of the stash of tea in my pack. I will not be supplying these people with more soldiers.

She continues typing, then disappears into a closet behind her, emerging with two sets of gray uniforms. "You'll receive a fresh uniform daily, but take care of the shoes. If these don't fit properly, you can change your sizing by talking to your commander. More instructions are in the orientation materials. You will be given daily schedules including mealtimes."

She slides a small packet across the table toward us.

"You've been assigned to cabin L-29, in the same hallway as your brother and sister. Since you haven't been scheduled for today, you can take this evening to acquaint yourself with your area. Have you eaten dinner yet?"

"No." Gale looks overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information we've been presented.

"Ok, I will ask command to send Mrs. Hawthorne down to escort you to dinner and show you around there."

"My mom is here? I thought we hadn't 'extracted' her yet."

The woman types into her computer again. "Primrose Hawthorne? Katniss's sister?"

Our shocked silence causes her to begin typing again. "She's reporting a wedding date of May 30 of this year to Victor Rory Hawthorne...reported that it's not legally registered, but they engaged in a District 12 tradition which signifies marriage? Is this information incorrect?"

Gale manages to squeak out "you allow 16-year-olds to declare themselves married without parental consent?"

She waves him off. "Without ways of contacting families, we take their word for it. Many couples around Panem have unofficial marriages, and if we were to annul all of those marriages, the singles barracks would be overflowing."

And we'd be stuck in them. Prim and Rory have played the same game we did. "But as their older siblings, do we have any rights?" I try not to sound as if I'm arguing with her.

"While many soldiers reside with their families until they get married, in District 13 you're considered a legal adult at 14 when you join the military."

Gale exhales audibly and we exchange looks. We have no power to change what Rory and Prim do. But they'll hear from us tonight.

The woman escorts us through labyrinthine hallways to our room and reminds us "Mrs. Hawthorne will be along in a few moments to take you to the dining hall." Then she turns and walks back the way we came.

Our tiny room is sparse and cold. There's a small bed along one wall, just big enough for the two of us. There's also a tiny bathroom with a shower, toilet and sink, all stainless steel. The room has no windows, only lights on the wall. Like everything else in 13, it's plain and claustrophobic. Like everywhere else in 13, the air here feels stale.

We shower (at least there's hot water) and change into our new uniforms. We're just starting to poke fun at one another for the drab, ill-fitting clothes when there's a knock at the door.

Prim and Rory have arrived to take us to dinner. As we walk through the maze of hallways, I note that Rory keeps his hand at the small of Prim's back, and she grins at him when he speaks. They chatter on about 13, avoiding any serious or controversial topics. Gale and I exchange a look. They're not going to tell us.

We've settled down to a bland dinner of grain and vegetables (Prim tells how they grow them underground using special lights) when Gale finally brings up sleeping arrangements.

"So...our bunk is pretty small. Tell us about the singles barracks!" The false cheeriness in his voice causes Prim to nearly choke on her drink. Gale makes direct eye contact with Rory as I stare down Prim. Divide and conquer.

Rory stumbles over his words. "Well...it's...we're..." He looks to Prim for help.

She stares hard back at me. "They know, Rory."

He has the good sense to look guilty. Gale reaches over and slaps him on the back of the head.

"Seriously, Rory? Married? You two are 16. I know why she was reaped, and I can't, for the life of me, figure out why you think any of this is a good idea. Just wait until mom finds out."

Rory's eyes widen. He hadn't thought of that.

With a surprising amount of confidence, Prim states "they were going to separate us. We didn't want that to happen. We _did_ have a toasting back in 12, if you must know. Just in case."

"Just in case what? You were reaped and died? Prim, did you consider for even a second that mom and I would like to be there? Not that it needed to happen."

She speaks back quietly but angrily. "I told you when we said goodbye why we did what we did. They took everything else..." There are tears in the corner of her eyes. "I couldn't come here and be alone."

Rory puts an arm around her shoulders and looks back at us. "Say what you want, you can't change anything. Not without getting sent to the barracks yourselves."

"But you're too young to be married" responds Gale.

"No," spits Rory, "_you_ were too young to get married when you were 16. You have no idea what I've been through...how fast I had to grow up...how fast Prim has had to grow up. We're old enough to choose this."

"Yeah, because I certainly wasn't supporting an entire family at 14 or keeping my siblings from tesserae. Katniss wasn't hunting at 12 or keeping her mom and Prim alive. We couldn't possibly understand what it means to grow up quickly."

The storm in Rory's eyes darkens, and the boys who were happily greeting each other earlier are now nose-to-nose. Prim tugs on Rory's arm and murmurs something in his ear. He nods and grabs his tray. "Let's go, Prim. Before I get any more upset."

Gale stabs at the remains of his meal and mutters under his breath. We return our trays, and attempt to find our room. I mentally curse myself for leaving my orientation book back in our cubicle.

Luckily, Haymitch appears around a corner and leads us through the labyrinth of hallways. While we walk, he updates us on the rebellion. "All the districts except 1 and 2 are rebelling to some degree. Prim's interview acted as the spark we've been waiting for."

"So you got her out of there?" I've been wondering how they managed to smuggle Prim out here.

Haymitch doesn't smile. "We were going to evacuate everyone in the middle of the night, but plans had to change. We managed to get the District 12, 3 and 4 tributes and Victors into the same elevator, fake a malfunction, and evacuate them to the roof where 13 was waiting." He looks guilty. "Several other victors and escorts were detained and probably executed."

"And what happened with the games?" I can tell Gale's curiosity has been piqued.

"They delayed them a few hours, and replaced the missing tributes. We're not sure how, but all 6 were killed at the bloodbath. District 2 won. Shortest games on record."

Gale continues to question Haymitch. "And what happened in the other districts? Who's winning?" He wants to be involved in the planning and fighting. I just want to keep everyone safe.

"The Capitol has focused most of their energy at subduing the most vital districts (3, 5 and 11) on the ground, and has bombed the less vital districts. Districts 4 and 8 have been nearly flattened, and several thousand refugees have evacuated to 13, including victors' families. The tide has turned in our direction, and the rebels have control over most of the outlying districts."

"And 12?" Gale asks.

"We established communications on day 3. Your friend Thom was at the helm, fighting-wise, with Sae keeping the residents calm and working together. It's been pretty successful. Your families are safe and well hidden." He takes a shaky breath. "But we lost communications on day 15. Our sources say that ground forces were sent in from the Capitol. It's only been 2 days. There could be many explanations, but it might not be good." He looks back and forth between us as we pause outside our door. "I'll keep you in the loop as long as the two of you are cooperative. I'm pulling some strings to get you into command and more active in this thing. Don't blow it."

We don't make any promises.

* * *

**Reviewers! You guys are so awesome!**

**Regarding the Everlark questions: one of the things I challenged myself to do was create a situation where Katniss and Peeta can be friends (like, just friends). He's an awesome person, and still supplies a lot of things Gale can't. She needs friends. One of my criticisms of a lot of Galeniss stories is that they involve turning Peeta into something he's not, or just killing him outright. Same thing for a lot of Everlark stories. As an added bonus, I heart bromance, and I want Gale and Peeta to figure out how to be friends as well. This will NOT turn into Everlark, I promise. Gale and Katniss all the way!**

Please review! I keep finding continuity and grammar mistakes in previous chapters, so I'll probably start editing soon. I'd love more feedback!


	32. Fighters

In District 13, the lights turn on automatically at 6:30am. As hunters, we often rise early, but something about having the choice taken away leaves a sour taste in my mouth. We fumble in the artificial light to put on our uniforms and splash water on our faces. Just before 7 (or 0700 as they call it here) I grab our manual and lead Gale to the wall unit that prints our daily schedules in indelible ink. We huddle around our tattoed forearms, comparing schedules.

Despite the fuss about jobs yesterday, neither of us has to begin work. Instead, we have "evaluations" before lunch, then our first military training before dinner. At least we'll get to spend most of today together.

We sit down to breakfast across Peeta and Haymitch, who greet us with bleary eyes. Gale glares at them. "It would have been nice if we'd been informed that our siblings got married." He continues to stab at the lukewarm, bland mush as he stares at them.

"Sorry." Peeta mumbles around his cup. "It wasn't our news to tell."

I gesture toward Haymitch with my fork. "You guys could have stepped in. Intervened."

"That sister of yours is a smart one, Sweetheart. We didn't know until they were assigned a compartment. Peeta and I saved that kid a bed in the barracks, but he never showed." Haymitch grins in admiration. "A bit manipulative, but I guess you pick stuff like that up when you're around victors. Too bad she can't direct those brains toward something useful."

We choke down our breakfast in silence and I contemplate Prim's personality. She's always been smart, and she reads people well (she and Peeta have that in common). She's still sweet, and cares deeply about everyone around her. But she's also become independent and determined, qualities that often resemble manipulation. It's not fun to be on the receiving end of one of her ideas.

Gale and I manage to locate the infirmary on time and our physicals are pretty uneventful. We're both declared "underweight but otherwise healthy" and sent to the rest of the evaluation. We spend the remainder of the morning on intelligence and endurance evaluations. We're not clear on what the numbers mean, but the evaluator seems impressed.

"Oh good, we get more tasteless stew" I quip when we get our increased lunch rations. The food is truly terrible. Rory and Prim sit down at our table, looking sheepish.

"We just want to apologize" Prim begins. "We weren't meaning to go behind your backs or whatever...we thought you'd understand." She nudges Rory in the ribs.

Rory still looks put out. "Yeah, sorry." He stares at his food.

"Anyway..." She shoots a look over to Rory, "we have free time tonight, and we'd like to spend some time with you guys. Maybe show you the district a little?" She grabs my arm to look at my schedule. "I think we have dinner together, too. Should we meet here?"

Rory is still pouting. Gale looks to me to answer.

"Of course, Prim!" I try to sound enthusiastic.

* * *

It's not until training that afternoon that I feel I may enjoy some aspects of 13. We're lined up with our training squad (which includes some refugees from 4 and 11 and the tributes from District 3) and given rifles. There are 10 of us total. On the opposite wall, the commander lines up a series of electronic targets.

"For those of you who are new, I want to evaluate your shooting abilities. Those of you who've done this before need to increase your score from last time. The pellets in your rifles are not dangerous, but will activate the targets. You have two minutes to see how close you can get to the bullseye. Go."

Although I've never held a rifle before the process of aiming comes easily to me. I correct for my initial poor aim and manage to hit the bullseye with about ¾ of my pellets before he calls "stop." My biggest challengs is a lack of upper body strength, and I have to compensate for the strong kickback of the gun.

Commander LeBeau, a tall, thin man with a neatly groomed mustache walks slowly down the row of bullseyes, giving feedback to each person. Gale and I are the last two people on the end, and we've been too busy arguing about who was more accurate to notice that we've hit the target far more often than anyone else in the room.

When Commander LeBeau reaches us, he squints his eyes at each of us for a moment.

"Soldiers Hawthorne" he begins calmly, "where have you accessed rifles in the districts?"

I squirm under his glare. "We haven't..."

Gale nudges me.

"Sir..." I do my best imitation of the other soldiers in the room. Gale has caught onto military culture much more quickly than I.

Commander LeBeau raises his eyebrows. "Remember that District 13 does not enforce the laws of other districts. What weapons do the two of you know how to use?"

"Bow and arrow, Sir" Gale says confidently. My eyes widen; I know he does not trust these people, so why is he being honest?

"And who taught you to shoot?"

"Katniss did, sir." Gale looks to me.

"And you?" LeBeau looks to me as well.

I look to the ground, remembering warm spring days in the woods with my dad. I fight back emotions for a moment. "My father." I finally manage to squeeze out. "We brought his bows with...they put them in the armory."

Commander LeBeau stares at me for a moment. "Do you shoot better with a bow?"

I nod. Gale adds "Katniss shoots better than me, but we're both better with the bow."

The Commander walks brusquely out of the room, leaving the 10 of us standing in confusion. The other members of our class stare at us with questions in their eyes. I'm uncomfortable with the amount of attention. Gale glares back at them, then whispers to me "if we want to join the fight, they need to know we're fighters." I understand. I just don't like it. I don't trust these people and don't want them to know what I'm capable of doing.

A few minutes later, the Commander returns, this time with Boggs in tow and our bows slung over his shoulder. He also has a quiver of pellet-tipped arrows. He hands them to us, then resets the targets. "Two minutes." He and Boggs stand with their arms crossed to watch us.

Gale shoots arrows in rapid succession, sprinkling them across his target, mostly hitting the center. My arrows are slower, but the majority hit the middle. When Boggs calls time, Gale has a larger number of bullseyes, but my accuracy is much higher. In fact, I've only missed the bullseye with two arrows.

While Boggs and LeBeau confer to the side, Gale whispers in my ear, "missed a couple, Catnip" with a wink.

I snort and whisper back "not as many as you."

"Soldiers Hawthorne!" Boggs looks more animated than he was on the hovercraft. "Starting tomorrow, you're being moved to accelerated training." Then he turns to me "Katniss, Rory has been admirably silent on how he learned to shoot. But I want to tell you that whoever taught him to shoot saved his life and will save many others." And with that, he turns and leaves the room.

We spend the next few hours working through drills with our classmates, learning commands and formations. The tributes from District 3, a pair of trembling teenagers, introduce themselves shyly, recognizing us as Prim and Rory's siblings. From District 11 there are a handful of tired looking middle aged people, none of which look too ready to fight in a war. One mentions that "the strong ones always get pulled out of training" as he struggles to dismantle his practice rifle. The refugees from 4 include three older men (relatives of a victor).

After military training, we're scheduled "Reflection." Our manual states that we are to "reflect on our role in District 13 and engage in activities designed to increase our prosperity unless otherwise assigned."

Gale and I take this opportunity to break a few of the unspoken rules and explore Wing L a bit further. We find that Prim and Rory live a few doors away from us (their nameplate says, of course, "Rory and Primrose Hawthorne"), and that at the far end of the hallway is a ventilation shaft that seems to lead to the laundry room. I crawl the opposite direction for awhile, hoping to find a way outside, while Gale keeps watch at the entrance.

We get shifty looks from some of the native District 13 people (who we identify by their pallor and disciplined walks) as we explore. It's frowned upon to explore. After several teenagers glare at us when we round the corner near the hospital, we give up and make our way to the dining hall.

We've just sat down next to Prim and Rory when the TVs turn on. Peeta and Haymitch scramble to find places at our table, and Haymitch grumbles "oh goodie, we're famous. Again"

Rory fidgets and looks at his plate while Prim rubs his back.

"There's mandatory viewing even in 13?" I ask, curious about the District 13 insignia on the screen, and the unfamiliar song playing.

"It's not _mandatory_ mandatory here " Peeta explains, "but they turn on all the TVs whenever the Capitol puts on mandatory viewing. Has Rory told you about his special project?"

All eyes turn to Rory, who is beginning to look furious. "I didn't tell them because she _promised _they wouldn't air it until _after_ we extracted our families."

"Air what?" Gale's curiosity has been piqued.

"Propos" explains Haymitch. "Since we've been here, we've been filming propos. They're designed to keep the rebels in good spirits, and bring Districts 1 and 2 to our side. The victors and the tributes who escaped are in them."

"But they were supposed to extract our families before they started airing them." Rory's eyes are stormy. "We didn't want to put them in danger."

The anthem ends, Prim's face fills the screen. Beside me, she is pale, and grasps Rory's hand tightly.

"Greetings, people of Panem. You may recognize me as Primrose Everdeen, District 12 tribute for the 78th Hunger Games." Prim-on-screen begins to explain that she escaped before the games and joined the rebels.

"Panem?" Gale looks to Haymitch with curiosity. "This isn't just aired here? How are they airing this in the Districts? The Capitol?"

Haymitch looks mischievous. "Probably not the Capitol, but Beetee has this on in most of the districts." Apparently this is supposed to be a sufficient explanation.

On screen, Prim gives an overview of the rebellion and makes it clear that we are winning. We will overcome the Capitol, just as she, a girl from District 12, lived when the Capitol expected her to die.

She finishes by saying, "I'm with the rebellion. Are you?"

Then the screen changes to Rory saying "I'm with the rebellion."

Then Peeta. "I'm with the rebellion."

And Haymitch. And Finnick, Annie...the victors on screen aren't all familiar, but each has their name and year of victory underneath their face. Beetee...Wiress...Mags...Johanna...Blight...Cecelia...Chaff, Seeder...and more. At the end, a picture of them sitting around the table, unified, fills the screen, then the District 13 insignia replaces it. The TV turns off.

"How many victors are in 13?" I finally ask with wonder.

Haymitch grins a bit. "Twenty. We were able to 'extract' some of them as they left the Capitol after the games. Most of the outlying districts are represented, but we only have a couple of people from 1 and 2. We're working on that.

Gale asks, "so why are you calling it Rory's project? That was mostly Prim."

"This was just the first propo. We've filmed a whole bunch more with a bunch of different lengths. It depends on how often and how long Beetee can break in. They picked me because I'm a recent victor and I'm popular, so I'll be in a lot of them. Cressida thinks-"

I interrupt Rory. "Cressida? Like the Capitol interviewer? She's here, too?"

"You'd be surprised at how many Capitolites aren't happy with the status quo, Sweetheart." Haymitch grins at me.

I expect Prim to protest at the shared nickname, but she just looks worried. She almost whispers to Rory, "I thought we made our conditions clear. Why haven't they gotten our families out?"

She's not stupid. If the Capitol knows she's in 13 with the victors and the rebels, they're going to seek out our families and try to hurt her through them. And not just my mom, but Gale's family and Peeta's, too. Visions of Posy and Vick flash through my awareness.

Rory just barely holds his rage in. He mutters back to Prim, "I'll get this fixed tomorrow when I meet with Boggs." Then he looks to Gale and I. "We all need to talk."

Haymitch and Peeta both nod at us. "I know some places." Haymitch adds on. He gets up to put his tray away, and nods his head at us to follow. So we file out of the dining hall and follow him through the winding halls, down stairways (Haymitch appears to hate elevators as much as I do), and into the bowels of District 13. I'm amazed at how well he knows his way around. At one point, he stops and raps on a couple of doorways in an unfamiliar pattern, then turns and we walk the opposite direction.

Finally, we reach a small classroom in the academic wing, and Haymitch waves a small card in front of the door, unlocking it. Prim and I perch on top of desks while the boys and Haymitch slump down into some of the chairs.

Rory groans in exasperation. "She promised. What the hell."

"A couple more people will be here in a minute. We'll get to the bottom of this" Haymitch says, trying to calm him down.

Haymitch fills us in on his favorite and least favorite parts of District 13, while Peeta interjects with information that's actually useful. They tell us about Alma Coin, president of District 13, and the leader of the rebellion. Neither Haymitch nor Peeta seems fond of her. Haymitch mentions the constant scheduling and lack of liquor. Peeta tells us about the district heiarchy. We're interrupted by the same rapping pattern on the door, and it opens to reveal two middle aged men. One, I vaguely recognize as Beetee, another victor. The other, a balding man with a paunch, I can't place.

Haymitch takes charge of the introductions. "You gentlemen know these three, and the new arrivals are Gale and Katniss Hawthorne, Rory and Primrose's brother and sister." The men offer their hands to use. "Katniss, Gale, this is Beetee and Plutarch. Victor and former Gamemaker."

Plutarch grins and quips jovially, "I don't suppose they'd give me my job back at this point, eh?"

"Now that everyone knows each other, can someone explain why Coin reneged on our agreement?" Rory breaks in with an angry tone.

In a quiet but intelligent voice, Beetee replies, "I apologize. That was my fault...I wasn't sure how long the airwave openings would hold without detection, so I told Command that it was best to act immediately. They did not mention that the families had yet to be extracted. Of course, had I known about those circumstances I would have held off..."

Plutarch interjects, "but with the situation as it is, this was the best time. And I've been assured that the extraction will happen as soon as is practical."

"Here in 13, we have a rebellion coordinator for each district. Plutarch represents the Capitol-based population and directs the propos" Haymitch explains.

Gale, of course, has questions. "So who is our representative?"

"Me." Haymitch looks to see if Gale will challenge him. Gale looks to Rory who shrugs. It's OK with him.

Gale continues, "so what's the situation then? Why was this the best time?"

Plutarch becomes less jovial. "We've had some significant losses lately. We haven't lost any ground, but we're at an impasse in Districts 1 and 2, and we can't see a clear way to the Capitol at this point. We've had some significant personnel losses in the past few days, so we need to start rallying people to join the fighting."

"And District 12?" I ask as I think about our conversation with Haymitch.

Haymitch looks uncomfortable and Plutarch continues hesitantly. "We lost contact a few days ago and have been unable to re-establish at this point. From our intelligence and some fly-overs, it looks like the Capitol withdrew ground forces." Haymitch raises his eyebrows and Plutarch continues. "It appears there has been heavy bombing and some parts of the district likely have severe casualties."

Prim obviously hasn't heard about this because her eyes are wide and scared. "But what about our families?" Her tone is pleading.

Haymitch tries to comfort her. "There were contingency plans in place. There are safe houses and places outside the district for them to go. Hazelle, Lily and Brian are in charge of keeping the children in a safe place."

"And what if something happens to them? Who's the backup?" I ask, remembering that everyone but us had a backup.

"Madge." Peeta's voice is grave. "Madge was the backup, and we didn't have time to...I'm so sorry guys. I know our parents can keep them safe. They're fine."

Gale fixes Plutarch with a forceful glare. "Do we know where they are? When does the extraction happen?

Peeta adds, "And what about Delly, Bannock and Nick?"

Plutarch pulls out a stack of papers and leafs through them. "Haymitch has given us a list of possible places in and out of the districts, but you and your wife are welcome to some input. There's a priority list. Children first, then adults of reproduction age, then older and less valuable targets. It's my understanding that many of our targets have already been extracted or are deceased.

I glance at the paper.

_District 12 Extraction Targets_

_Priority List_

_1\. __Posy Hawthorne_

_2\. __Vick Hawthorne_

_3\. __Delly Cartwright_

_4\. __Pumpernickel Mellark_

_5\. __Bannock Mellark_

_6\. __Lily Everdeen_

_7\. __Hazelle Hawthorne_

_8\. __Brian Mellark_

"Priority List?" I ask no one in particular. "Like, some are more important than others? Who decides that?"

Peeta squirms uncomfortably. "It's not ideal, but they said there's a limited amount of resources, so they have to focus them."

"Focus on what?" I ask with disgust.

"They put priority on children. And they have to balance the risk of a rescue mission with the contributions refugees can make to the rebellion." Peeta is avoiding eye contact.

"This is a powerplay." Prim's words come out of nowhere, but when she says it, Peeta's eyes grow wide with understanding. "They haven't gotten our families because they're showing us that whatever we negotiated doesn't matter."

"She's right" Peeta agrees.

Plutarch hesitates, sounding unsure. "She promised. She acknowledged that the propos are vital to the rebellion, and that these were your conditions."

Prim's eyes are hard. "Coin's been showing us since we got here that what we want doesn't matter. Think about it. Rory and I have separate meals more often than not. Peeta and Haymitch are in the singles barracks even though they could share a compartment like some of the other single refugees. Rory's on a different squad than Peeta and Haymitch. Plus, Haymitch will never pass combat training since he's pulled into meetings most days. She's trying to put wedges between us so we can't cooperate."

Rory looks somehow even angrier than normal, and even Peeta's eyes have narrowed.

Plutarch looks to Haymitch and they have a silent conversation. Finally Haymitch nods at him.

Plutarch continues, "the structure of 13 is designed to create subservient soldiers. Close relationships threaten the order of command, so the culture is designed to water down those strong relationships. That's why children spend so much time in school, and why spouses are on separate squads. Heck, that's why they schedule sex. They want babies, but not –"

I cut him off. "They schedule _sex_?!"

Peeta lets out a chuckle, followed by Rory. Prim joins in giggling, and when I look to Gale he's silently laughing, trying to hide it.

Haymitch interjects, "what do you think Reflection time is supposed to be? 'engage in activities to increase our prosperity...' what else were you two up to today?" He snorts and looks to Gale.

"Katniss crawled through the ventilation shafts in an effort to escape this hellhole" Gale offers with a smirk. "I didn't have the heart to explain it to her."

My face is beet red as everyone guffaws at my expense. Prim even mutters something about me being "naive."

I shoot her a look and return to Plutarch, ignoring the current conversation. "Regardless of _why_, do you have any power to make sure our families are rescued?" I glare at Rory, who is quietly teasing Gale, and catch Peeta's look of merriment over Rory's shoulder.

He returns to his task-oriented expression. "I will put some pressure on the President tonight. I have complete control over the propo crew, and Beetee is with us, so if she wants more propos, she'll have to go through with this mission."

"And what if it's not worthwhile to her?" Peeta asks. "What if she decides the propos aren't worth it?"

"Oh, the propos are worth it" Plutarch waves him off.

Despite the levity of the past few minutes, Gale is still stiff with anger. He adds, "if they won't do it, we leave. You all can come with us, but if 13 won't get our families, Katniss and I will go do it ourselves."

I meet his gaze and nod.

I tune out most of the meeting as Plutarch discusses other victors and their roles in the war. I catch that District 2 houses most of the Capitol's military, adn their compound is virtually impenetrable. We've made inroads in District 1, but there's still a strong Capitol presence, and this is where the rebellion has had heavy losses lately. They're hoping the propos can turn the population against President Snow.

That night, lying in bed, I ask Gale, "we're in this together still, right? We won't let them drive a wedge between us like Prim said?"

He rolls over to face me and strokes my cheek. "My loyalties are with you first, then my family, then the rebellion, Catnip. I want the Capitol to fall, but there's a limit to what I'm willing to lose to make that happen."

I can't help but agree with him. There's a huge, excited part of me that wants to stay and fight; we're uniting the districts and challenging the Capitol. But the "win at all costs" mentality I've encountered here makes me nervous. The people in 13 have given up their lives, freedom and autonomy in the name of rebellion. I'm not sure trading one oppressive regime for another is the answer. Will 13 allow the districts to live as they wish, or will they force us to do their bidding?

To be honest, I'm not sure how long Gale and I will survive here anyway. I'm desperate for fresh air and freedom. Gale has thrown himself into learning about this place (in the name of helping in the war), but he'll crack at some point, too. We don't do well with this kind of structure.

So I rebel the best way I know how in this moment. I throw a leg over his hip and whisper, "want to really piss them off and engage in 'activities to increase our prosperity' outside of the scheduled time?" I'm grateful that I have a few months worth of tea in my dresser. Thirteen can't control everything.

He chuckles and his lips meet mine. It's not the freedom of the woods or sanctuary of our house in the Seam, but what we have is ours and no amount of schedules or power plays can drive us apart.

* * *

**I've always thought of 13 as being in Canada. Commander LeBeau descended from French Canadians. Let it happen. **


	33. Training

**Edited 8/10 for some continuity problems (the baker's name is Ryan, not Brian!) and some grammarish stuff.**

* * *

Our purple-tinted schedules the next day put us in "Special Operations – 0730" just after breakfast. We wind our way to the assigned room and Boggs greets us gruffly. Rory and Peeta have already sat down, and there's a handful of unfamiliar soldiers already lined up in chairs around a small table. I find myself between Gale and Rory, waiting to find out the plan.

Boggs begins, "welcome to the District 12 extraction team. Some of you," (he nods to the identical looking women across from me), "have participated in other extractions. Some have not, but you've been brought on board because of your expertise in the area in and around District 12."

He looks to Gale and I. "Soldiers Hawthorne, you're given special permission to participate in this extraction. Afterwards, however, you will still need to complete accelerated training. You will have the same expectations as all other soldiers, and will ultimately be assigned to separate squads. Soldiers Hawthorne and Mellark have recently completed the accelerated program and can tell you what to expect."

"You can expect a lot of bullshit," Rory mutters in my ear. I try to suppress a smile and cover my mouth with my hand.

"Soldier Hawthorne!" Boggs yells. All three of us look at him. He sighs and rubs his temple. "Katniss," he says, "why are you out of uniform?"

I glance at my outfit. I'm wearing my assigned uniform, down to the uncomfortable shoes.

"I'm not sure what's wrong?" I question.

"The bracelet, Mrs. Hawthorne."

I glance down at my bracelet, which has not left my wrist since the day Gale put it there. The laces were my father's, the pendant Hazelle's... "This is what I wear instead of a wedding ring." I challenge him.

"You may stop by the acclimation office later and pick up a standard issue ring. I don't want to see the bracelet again."

Gale and I share a look. Yet another way to drive a wedge between people; a standard issue ring (likely re-used or re-purposed) doesn't share the same meaning as the bracelet we chose. But fine, I'll play their game. I'll follow the rules so I can fight. But they won't get my loyalty. I'm loyal to my family, end of story. We're out of here as soon as the Capitol falls. Or sooner, if needed.

Boggs continues on regarding the mission we're planning. He projects a 3-D map of District 12 and the surrounding area and points out the major areas in which he expects our families have hidden themselves. He also shows us what we know of the bombings and rebellion.

The rebels, led by Thom and several crews of miners, took out the peacekeepers on the first night. The rebels killed most of the peacekeepers, but they also imprisoned some for information. The rebels established themselves in the justice building and took over communications. They'd made contact with District 11 rebels fairly quickly, and over the ensuing days were also communicating with 3, 4, 8 and 10. Because no one knew District 13 existed, they were unaware that 13 had access to communications.

From what we understand, the longstanding feud between Seam and Town came to a head during those first few days. Each wanted to take over leadership and there was widespread panic regarding the lack of incoming supplies. The Town residents had stockpiled non-perishable inventory, and were charging unreasonable amounts for basic supplies. In the Seam, most people had spent the past months planting and tending gardens, and raising chickens, goats and pigs. Their attempts to trade for other food and medicine were met with resistance, and eventually they refused to even allow townspeople into the Hob to trade.

My mother, the Mellarks, and Sae were the only people who were regularly bridging the gap.

At the end of that first week, there were open brawls among the residents and some had even turned their makeshift weapons on one another. They were, essentially, proving the Capitol correct: without the oversight and intervention of the government, District 12 residents turned to violent animals.

From what District 13 had gathered, 12 finally moved to elect a government. Seven people sat on the board: three Seam, three Town, and my mother, who represented both. Thom, Sae and Hazelle won the Seam positions in the first-ever general election. Brian Mellark, Steven Cartwright and the grocer (Mayor Undersee's younger sister) Janet O'Harett represented the town. Among the seven of them, they were able to establish a more structured trading system, and even get the school up and running.

They also established a militia which was responsible for defending the district. The miners replaced their time underground with guard duties, and their mining crews became defense squads. The sirens were used to call in reinforcements. The Capitol sent in ground crews on several occasions, but they were only able to send in one hovercraft at a time. Twenty peacekeepers in each wave could hardly fight off hundreds of determined miners, and District 12 was well armed within days.

At that point, around the time Gale and I were found, the Capitol began bombing. In other districts, they'd used firebombs to level huge portions of the cities, but they'd run out quickly. Apparently they had underestimated District 12 and had not seen it as a threat. Because of this, they'd focused their firepower on key targets: the Justice Building, the school, the Hob...since that time, communications had been down and District 12's fate has been unknown for days.

The district was cooperating and preparing for the winter when the bombing started, disabling critical parts of town. Rough estimates from District 13's intelligence place the death toll and potential casualties at around 1/3 of the population. My stomach churns as they explain that the Capitol targeted 12 during the night; so they could catch as many people unaware as possible.

Based on aerial damage photos, we have narrowed down the places in the district that our families could be hiding. Our house in the Seam, and my mother's house in the seam have been flattened, and much of the downtown square is in ruins. They have left the Victor's Village standing, so our "primary objective" is to see if our families are hiding there.

"With all due respect, sir." Gale interrupts Boggs at this point. "My mother is not an idiot, and would not hide in her own home. They're somewhere else."

"And what do you suggest, Soldier Hawthorne?"

Gale beckons Rory and I forward, and the three of us begin to point out the hiding places we suggest. Most are outside the district, but a few are within the fence. Peeta points out a few places where his family might hide, including a secret bunker under the school, left from the dark days.

We eventually make a list of approximately 10 places, and rank them from most to least likely. Boggs ranks them from easiest to infiltrate to most difficult. He insists, to Gale and Rory's annoyance, that we make our initial landing in the Victors' Village and part of the crew will sweep the houses there. Eventually, they will work their way through the district checking about 6 potential hiding spots. They will drop the rest of us just outside the district where we will scan the 4 most likely spots outside the district.

"So we're going today?" Rory asks the question with aggression. We've been discussing the plan all morning, meaningless details that don't really matter. What matters to us (at least the former District 12 residents in the room) is getting our families out and safe. I can't speak for Peeta, but I know Gale, Rory and I aren't coming back to 13 unless we have our families with us. Safely.

Boggs looks at Rory and narrows his eyes. "Soldier Hawthorne, I understand your concerns. But no one in this room can authorize the mission. President Coin will give the word when she feels it's appropriate...it will not be today, but I can assure you it will be soon."

Soon. That still means unknown days of not knowing where our families are, or if they're even alive. Rory looks mutinous.

At 12:30, we're finally released for lunch, with no real plan in place about _when_ we'll extract our families. Gale and Rory have retreated into glaring silence. I'm plotting (in my head, of course) a hundred different ways to find my way back to 12. It will take about a week on foot, but we can make it. Rory will want to come with us...even Peeta seems upset. He's diplomatic about it, sharing stories about his brother and Delly with Boggs (hoping to garner some sympathy, I assume), but every time we discuss _when_, he becomes aggressive with his questions.

We're all a bit dejected when we sit down for lunch. I push my mushy fish around my plate and Gale and Rory wolf their food down, then angrily whisper to one another. Peeta eventually nudges me and whispers "if you and Gale plan anything, keep me in the loop. I'll come, too."

"Of course," I whisper back. "It's Delly, isn't it? That's who you're most worried about?"

He stares hard at his still-full plate, wrinkling his nose. "My dad and brothers can handle themselves. They're probably part of the fighting...but Delly couldn't hurt anyone." His eyes shine a bit, and I slide down the bench a bit to hug him. "It's silly, I know, but I'll feel better once I know she's safe."

From across the table, Gale glares at Peeta as he and I whisper. I raise my eyebrows back. Now is not the time for Gale's misplaced jealousy. In the past year the two have developed a bond of sorts, and I _thought_ Gale had gotten past his jealousy. I hope I'm right.

After lunch, we're scheduled to begin our accelerated training. The instructors lead the group up several staircases and, to my relief, out a set of heavily guarded doors. The scent of the forest and warmth of the sun greet us as we walk past the guards. I breathe in and close my eyes, appreciating more than ever the freedom of the woods. Beside me, Gale has done the same.

Even when the instructor leads us on a 5 mile run, I appreciate every moment above the ground in the open air. It's hard for me to believe we've only been in 13 for 3 days. It feels like months since we've been outside.

By the end of the run, we're sweaty and panting, but we've managed to keep up with the rest of the class. To my chagrin, we're led back beneath the ground for the rest of the afternoon. There we practice assembling our rifles and learn military regulations. I fight to keep my eyes open as the commander (I've lost track of the names and ranks of all the people we've seen) drones on about hierarchies and order of authority.

Finally we're dismissed for Reflection and Gale and I both agree that we need a nap. The combination of the long run and several hours of sitting has my muscles sore and my mind exhausted.

We've been curled up together for less than 10 minutes when the TV turns on. I had been barely asleep, and it takes me a moment to determine whether I'm awake or dreaming. We blink in the dimmed light as the Capitol seal fills the screen. Gale's arms stay around me and we lean back against the wall, confused about what's happening.

Caesar Flickerman appears, sitting in a home-like studio. He sits comfortably in a wing backed chair, his hair dyed the same bright blue as the flowers on the upholstery. His white teeth flash as he's introduced, then he begins:

"Good evening, Panem. I come to you tonight with some very serious and important information. Yesterday there was an unfortunate breach in airwave security, and many of you were forced to witness a small radical group's attempt at igniting unrest within the country. As you know, these rebels used the image of a recently-deceased tribute. In using her image, they have not only defiled her memory, but have also led many residents of Panem to believe that they can live independently of the Capitol."

"They're pretending she's really dead..." I whisper.

"I cannot repeat this enough," Caesar continues, "the best way to remain safe now and in the future is to re-affirm your allegiance to the Capitol. These rebels are hoping that everyday citizens can fight on their behalf. They want you to die for them. And I am here tonight to tell you that _if you join the rebellion, you will die._ Treason is punishable by death. No one is exempt from the law."

He pauses then, and the screen splits to show a second location. It looks vaguely familiar.

"In order to emphasize this point, I will now direct your attention to District 12."

The screen focuses completely on what I now recognize as a dirtier, somewhat damaged version of District 12's town square. Before we left, there was a single gallows flanked by a whipping pole and collection of stocks.

Now, in front of the Justice Building, stand three sets of gallows. Gale's arms tighten around me and I lean my head against him, as if I can block out what we're about to see.

Caesar continues, voicing over what's happening in 12, "this district has chosen to rebel against the Capitol. As you can see, their actions have led to ruin throughout District 12 and the Capitol has re-gained control. Our brave Peacekeepers have located the leaders of this rebellion and in a moment, we will broadcast their executions live on screen."

"Who...?" Gale's unanswered question hangs in the air, and I'm afraid to know the answer.

On screen, there is fumbling as Peacekeepers march back and forth, and a few struggle in the background with their prisoners. Caesar is silent for a moment, waiting for them to ready themselves.

After a few moments, he continues, "please be advised that the Hunger Games victors you saw on screen last night are now considered enemies of Panem. During the unsuccessful District 12 rebellion, we discovered that many of their families were involved in the rebellion as well. Victors Peeta Mellark and Rory Hawthorne –"

We both draw sharp breaths when they say their names.

"-and deceased tribute Primrose Everdeen are all known to be part of this rebellion. Furthermore, it was discovered that their families led the unsuccessful attempt. Tonight these rebels were captured and will now be executed via hanging."

My breaths become more shallow and Gale shakes beside me. The peacekeepers on screen march three people onto the platforms below the gallows.

Ryan Mellark. Hazelle Hawthorne. And my mother.

Within moments, the door to our compartment bursts open, startling us both. Before I can think, Prim has leapt into my arms, sobbing. Rory's rage is palpable as he follows behind her. Even so, Gale beckons Rory to join us on the bed, and we scoot over to accommodate him. He sits on the other side of Prim, rubbing her back as she cries, his jaw firmly set.

On the TV, Caesar has ceased commentating, as it's obvious what's happening. My mother, who has mercifully retreated within herself yet again, is the first to have the noose fastened around her neck. Next to her, glancing worriedly around, Brian Mellark stands with resignation. Finally, Hazelle (her eye blackened) stares defiantly at the peacekeeper as he fastens her noose.

Gale's hand tightens on mine, and I feel him bury his head in my hair for a moment. I hold Prim's head against my shoulder. Her hand grasps Rory's as the peacekeepers march off the gallows platform.

The head peacekeeper, a person who I've never seen, gives the order. And the platform drops. Prim screams and the tears begin to flow down my cheeks. On screen, our parents hang limp, dead.

Prim continues to sob and Gale wraps his arms around me, and by extension, Prim. I must be in shock because my thoughts are coming too quickly and too slowly all at once. In the half dark of our compartment, memories of my mother rush through my head. Watching her rock baby Prim to sleep. The sparkle in her eye as my father came home from the mine each day. Her capable hands splinting an unknown arm. Her vacant expression as I accepted a medal for my father's death. Interspersed are memories of Hazelle and the baker. Hazelle welcoming me into her home, even though she already had 5 mouths to feed. The baker trading bread for squirrels. And as these memories come, my brain is fuzzy. I know I should be doing _something_...comforting Prim...Gale...Rory...finding Peeta...

Gale stares at the TV, as if it will change something. Like our parents will cease to hang still. He, too, cannot gather his thoughts.

Until Rory snaps.

Rory pulls off his own shoes (lacking any kind of decoration or extraneous objects in the room) and hurls them toward the TV. It falls from its mounting. As it crashes to the floor, the room plunges into darkness.

"Rory!" Gale yells, "What the fuck?!"

Rory storms out of the room, leaving the door ajar. A narrow strip of light from the hallway illuminates Prim's tearstained face. She blinks a few times at the brightness, then looks at me and whispers, "Posy and Vick..."

It clicks. The something I'm supposed to be doing. The rescue mission is planned but not scheduled. Our parents are dead, and they were supposed to be keeping the children safe. Somewhere in District 12 are two frightened, orphaned children with no one to look after them. There was no backup. They're our responsibility. I've never cared for someone the way I care for Prim, but if anyone comes close, it's Posy and Vick. My heartbeat speeds up as I think of them alone and scared.

I refuse to think that they might have been taken prisoner by the Capitol.

Gale's been shocked out of his stupor as well and he meets my eyes in the dim light. I nod back to him. We're making this happen. If 13 won't cooperate, we're going ourselves.


	34. Extraction

**A/N: Ugh, I had a huge amount of stuck-ness. I'm still a bit stuck, so this chapter doesn't end where I want it to (it's a bit of a cliffhanger, sorry!). But enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

* * *

Reflection time must be almost over because the hallway is filling with voices and footsteps.

My mind begins to formulate a plan. We need to find Boggs and whoever is in charge of Boggs and convince them that we need to go to District 12. Tonight. As much as I hate to admit it, the hovercraft and manpower will make this much faster and easier. I briefly consider whether we could fly our own hovercraft. We need to find Peeta, who will certainly join us. And we need to track down Rory and calm him down.

If Boggs says no, we're going ourselves, even if it's on foot.

Gale springs into action. "Prim, do you know where the barracks are?" he asks.

She gathers herself and nods. We follow her through the winding hallways, ignoring the whispers as we pass. As we round the corner we nearly run into Peeta and Haymitch. Peeta's eyes are red rimmed and Haymitch looks furious. And like he needs a drink.

Prim runs, to our astonishment, straight into Haymitch, wrapping her arms around his waist and sobbing into his chest. After a momentary look of panic, he begins to pat her back. Then he looks to us. "Where's the kid?"

We glance at one another. "Ran off somewhere...he's too angry to be useful, but we have a plan," Gale responds.

"When do we leave?" Peeta asks.

Gale looks him up and down for a moment. "You know what that entails, right? If 13 won't help us, it'll take a week to get there. I don't know what kind of weapons we can get, or whether the Capitol is waiting for us."

"I've survived worse." Peeta's eyes narrow. "I've got people in there, too, Hawthorne. Don't underestimate me." His fist clenches at his side. I rarely see him aggressive and I don't like it.

So I step between the two. Their emotions are running high, with what we've just seen, and their mild animosity (or whatever) is about to overflow. I put my palm on Gale's chest and raise my eyebrows at Peeta, who backs up a few paces.

The group around us looks back and forth between the two. They calm themselves and I take over. "Ok, so it's me, Gale, Peeta and Rory. Prim, I don't want you out there, not unless you've learned to use weapons or something."

"They're training me to be a medic – maybe a doctor," she interjects quietly. "I could come with just in case..."

"They'd be stupid not to." I mentally kick myself for not asking earlier what she's been doing in 13. "But I still don't want you out there." I look to Haymitch, "you can come if you can keep up, but I think you're better off here with Prim so she's not alone."

Haymitch grunts a bit. "I've got a better idea." He motions for us to follow him.

I recognize the path we're taking, and we end up outside of a door labeled "Command." I can hear loud voices inside. One is familiar. When Haymitch knocks, the door flies open, revealing Rory (his face red and angry), Boggs, Plutarch, Beetee, and a woman with gray hair and eyes. She sits at the head of a table, looking calm and unaffected despite the palpable tension in the room.

Rory stomps back to the table, flinging himself into a chair and looks to Haymitch, "I told them we're rescuing the kids whether 13 is involved or not. Plutarch and Beetee think we should just execute the mission, but they," he motions toward Boggs and the gray lady, "think we should wait another week. I told them we go now, or we go without them. And if we go without them, the propos are over."

I look to the gray lady again. I can't read her expression and that makes me uncomfortable. Her eyes, the same shade as her hair, burn into me. She's sizing us up. I hold her gaze, gray on gray.

As I stare her down, Haymitch asks Plutarch, "so Heavensbee, what'll it be?"

That clarifies the power structure for me. This lady might be in charge, but Plutarch holds the real power.

Plutarch hems and haws for a moment, then responds, "well, can't do propos without the Victors..."

It's Prim's high, clear voice that decides it. She's observed the situation and made her move. "President Coin, the Capitol just told the whole country that I'm dead. If the mission can go forward right now, I'm happy to help create a propo that will prove I'm actually alive and the Capitol is lying. Bit if we can't rescue Rory's brother and sister, I feel like I have no choice but to leave District 13 to go get them."

Coin breaks my gaze and looks to my sister, not knowing that I've all but forbidden Prim from joining us. "Fine," she intones, sounding almost bored, "Boggs will let you know how quickly we can get the extraction together, and Primrose will begin filming a propo tomorrow." She looks to Boggs. "This will be a volunteer-only mission, and I am hoping to limit the number of victors who are put at risk." Then she looks back to Gale and I. "I assume that the recent District 12 refugees will be some of the first to volunteer."

I stare back at her, hoping to make it clear that I have personal stake in this. "If you're happy to keep my _sister_ safe here, I'm happy to help find my husband's younger siblings."

Boggs has been sifting through papers on the table, and typing into a handheld computer. He looks to us. "We need more intelligence before we can just rush in there...you'll be notified in the morning what the plans are."

Gale and Rory both begin to protest and he cuts them off . "I realize the past hour or so has been traumatic to all of you. But you're no good to us when you're upset, hungry or tired. So go eat your dinner, get some sleep, and calm down. I expect you to be appropriately prepared for the mission by tomorrow morning." He stares hard at Rory.

The rest of our evening involves dinner, Rory's rants about the Capitol, and comforting Prim. She shows me around the compartment where she and Rory live, and is delighted when I show her the array of District 12 herbs and remedies from my bag.

Her joy is short lived, however, and her eyes mist over again and again as she sorts pills and teabags. Eventually she curls up on the bed and sobs for more than an hour while I hold her and make her sip Valerian tea. She agrees only if I will have a cup as well. I catch a glimpse of my tattooed schedule; I'm assigned to a class on "Nuclear Weapon History." I figure no one will miss me. Soon, Prim cries herself to sleep, and I slip out of her room and into ours.

When Gale and I settle into bed that night, he pulls me to his chest and I turn over to face him. The valerian tea seems to be settling my mind a bit, but this is the first moment we've had to truly think. I rest my forehead on his chest and he absentmindedly strokes my hair while I try not to cry. I'm afraid that if I let go of control, it will all hit me: Madge's death, the revelations about Peeta and Rory, Prim's reaping, killing those peacekeepers, and now our parents' executions. As long as I have something to do, a goal to reach, I can stuff it down for later. But in this quiet moment, I'm right on the edge of collapsing into the abyss of grief.

Eventually, Gale's breathing becomes ragged, and I know he's fighting tears as well. I cling to him on our tiny bed, and concentrate on tomorrow: we will rescue Posy and Vick. And so we spend the night, drifting in and out of half-sleep, clutching onto one another because it's the only way we know to get through it.

I've given up on sleep anyway by the time the lights come on. Gale has been pacing for more than an hour. We quickly dress and stick our arms in the schedule machine.

0700: Breakfast

0730: Command

The rest of the day is blank. At breakfast, we sit down with Rory (who tells us that Prim has been sent to an early hospital shift so she's free for propos later) and pick at the mushy turnips.

"Think you can get a deer or something while we're out there?" Rory quips. We all laugh nervously, trying to forget what's happened in the last 12 or so hours. Peeta sits down beside Rory and stabs at his own food. He has bags under his eyes. I'm sure he hasn't slept much either.

The four of us walk into Command as a united front. I'm not surprised to see Boggs, Plutarch and Haymitch clustered in the corner. I _am_ surprised to see Coin still seated at the head of the table, looking mildly put out. Soon after we sit down, the identical girls we met yesterday join us (Boggs greets them as "Soldiers Leeg"). Cressida, followed by two familiar-looking cameramen, comes in next, and then a woman I don't recognize joins us. Boggs introduces her to Haymitch as "Jackson" but continues to ignore the four of us as they talk.

Coin clears her throat and everyone gathers around the table. "Good morning," she begins, "I don't usually sit in on pre-extraction briefings, but today's meeting will also serve as my District 12 status meeting. So I will hand it over to Commander Boggs."

Yeah, right. After last night she just wants to keep an eye on us.

Boggs makes his way to the head of the table and turns on a holograph of District 12. "We sent a hovercraft into the district around dawn this morning to get a status update. According to their observations, no further damage has been done to the district, and the Capitol has withdrawn their peacekeepers."

I look to Gale. Something's not right about this.

Boggs continues, "we believe that the Snow and his forces intended to do two things: first, they wanted Panem to believe that District 12 is the only district rebelling, and they needed footage to reinforce their point. They want the citizens, especially those of the Capitol, to believe that the rebellion has been quelled and no further difficulties are present. Second, we believe they wanted to destroy the rudimentary government District 12 established. Because the Capitol can survive a significant amount of time without coal, they see 12 as expendable. Rather than waste manpower and resources subduing the district further, they have simply destroyed what they believe is the leadership, and are hoping that the district will destroy itself from within. If the residents don't starve to death first."

Peeta raises his hand. "Do we have a plan for winter? It sounds like with the bombings they might not have the resources."

"That is a problem for a later date." Coin's voice is emotionless as she stares at Peeta. He looks down at his hands.

Boggs continues, "It takes 3 hours for hovercraft to get from the Capitol to 12." Coin raises her eyebrows and Boggs explains, "we do not believe they are using the launching stations outside of 6 at this point, so that has bought us some time. This means that from the time we take down our shields to land until the point we need to be back in the air, we will have 2 hours and 15 minutes to complete the extraction and 45 minutes to return to the district."

Then he looks to us. "I have split you into two crews. Soldiers Leeg 1, Katniss and Gale will be with me outside the district. Peeta, Rory and Leeg 2 will be inside the district with Jackson here. Haymitch will be in the cockpit, as he knows his way around the district better than our pilots.

"We also have a film crew here, like we talked about last night. They will be following the Victors in town in order to get footage for further propos. Any questions about the crews?"

No one moves. It's not that we don't have questions. We just don't feel safe asking.

We split into our crews and discuss the plan. Gale and I (and our crew) will begin south of town near the area where we intended to settle. While the hovercraft drops the other crew in the Victors' Village, we will make our way north from that point and look near the outskirts of the south side of the district. If the kids are not there, the hovercraft will pick us up and take us to the lake. After that, we will hike to my and Gale's meeting place and check that area. If we still haven't found them at that point, the hovercraft will take us to the north side of the district where there's a small pond that Haymitch says he told Hazelle about.

I have my misgivings.

We eat an early lunch in Command and head to the hovercrafts. As we board, I notice Rory pauses for a moment to take some deep breaths.

Peeta leans toward my ear, "the only other time he's been on a hovercraft was on the way to the arena..." His face is white, too. Haymitch puts a comforting hand on Rory's shoulder as we embark.

We load onto the ship and I find myself between Gale and Peeta. As we taxi through the oppressive tunnels toward the surface again, Gale fidgets with the end of my braid and I wipe my sweaty hands on my jumpsuit. Haymitch looks to Rory, whose face is gray and eyes are closed, then at Gale and I.

"Hey Rory," Haymitch's voice is full of mischief. "They're gonna make Katniss cut her hair when she passes training."

Rory opens his eyes and his cheeks regain some color. He lets out a chuckle. Peeta joins in, and I glance over to Gale. His eyes are wide. I can't help the smile that crosses my face as well.

"Someone's going to have to explain the joke." Boggs doesn't look amused.

Haymitch grins. "The only thing Gale likes more than Katniss is Katniss's hair."

I pat his hand reassuringly. "I'm sure you'll survive." I don't consider myself vain. The only reason my hair is so long is because I _don't_ care, so I don't often cut it. From what I've seen on TV, District 12 is one of the few places in Panem where long hair is common. I noticed that District 13 women seemed to favor short hair, but I hadn't thought that it was a requirement. So while I don't care about my looks, I'm a little put out that 13 is trying to control yet another aspect of my life.

Even so, I join in the laughter because the alternative is to give in to the anger, nervousness and despair that's infiltrated our lives. Gale grabs the end of my braid, as if it will be torn from him right now, and I poke him in the ribs. He smiles a bit.

Boggs finally allows himself a grin and responds, "well, soldier, better enjoy it while you can."

At this point we've taken off toward District 12 and everyone's feeling a bit better.

We land south of District 12 in a clearing a day's walk from town. Our crew (Gale, Leeg 1, Jackson and I) grab our guns and disembark, ready to hike. Gale and I lead the crew through the woods. We are silent, they are not. They're so loud, in fact, that we see no wildlife as we walk. Within 20 minutes, we reach the area we marked out on the maps; the area we planned to settle. The ground is undisturbed and the air is silent. No one's been here for years; maybe decades.

We pause as Jackson uses her earpiece to radio back to the hovercraft, and Gale gathers me to him and whispers, "we can still do it..."

"Once we find Posy and Vick." I refuse to think that failure is an option.

"Ok, soldiers, enough. We head north until the hovercraft reaches us. They're dropping the other crew in the Victors' Village." Jackson looks to Gale and I. "Lead the way."  
And so we do, covering several miles of forest, devoid of human presence. And soon, we meet up with the hovercraft, sweaty and discouraged.

Haymitch sounds worried. "There's something not right about this...Victors' Village is empty, and when you look down over town...it looks like no one is out of their houses. They're not going to trust that crew, even if it's Rory and Peeta. Not with guns and uniforms and a hovercraft. The Capitol is up to something."

"Then let's finish the mission and get out of here," Gale replies. "The sooner we find them, the sooner we get home."

The next leg of our mission is much more familiar. The hovercraft drops us on the shore of my father's lake, less than half a mile from the stone house where we'd once changed clothes to go swimming. Our task is to march around the lake, then head on our hunting route toward town. We will meet back up with the hovercraft in the meadow, and hopefully one of the crews will have found the kids.

Gale and I rush toward the stone house; to us it's the most likely spot that the kids have hidden. Rory and Gale have told the kids about it, Peeta mentioned it to Delly as a safe haven, and Madge surely told Nick at some point. We're hoping that one of them (Nick, Bannock or Delly) has located the kids and kept them hidden.

But the stone house is silent. No smoke rises from the chimney, no voices come from inside. We cautiously open the door, guns at the ready.

Someone's been there. Recently. There's no layer of dust, and the charred wood in the fireplace still smells of smoke. Blankets are crumpled in the corner. Someone attempted to make the place look abandoned, and an inexperienced person would believe it. But Gale and I don't. We search outside for more evidence and find it: a footprint; too small for a Capitol soldier. Broken twigs nearby. Divots where someone has dragged a washbasin from the lake.

"They've been here" I declare.

Jackson is skeptical. "It could have been other refugees, soldiers...this evidence could be old."

"No!" Gale almost yells. "It's them. I don't know who's with them, but that's Posy's footprint, and my mom's washbasin..." He grinds his teeth to keep himself from yelling and stares at Jackson with determination. "I'm going to find them."

He heads off toward town, and I trot behind him, cursing my short legs. Behind us, I can hear Jackson and Leeg muttering between themselves and struggling through the narrow path. We leave them behind.

"Vick!" Gale begins to yell. "Posy!" There's desperation in his voice.  
"Posy!" I join in. "Vick!"

"Gale and Katniss!" Jackson's voice breaks into our earpieces. "This is against protocol. We cannot give away our position."

We both remove our earpieces and continue yelling.

A rustling of leaves gets our attention. We stop in our tracks, guns raised. Peacekeepers? Allied soldiers? Dangerous animals?

A small dark form bursts from the brush yelling "GALE!" and runs headlong into his arms. He drops his gun.

It's Posy. She looks healthy and unharmed, but she's sobbing uncontrollably as he rubs her back and holds her.

I kneel down next to where they've fallen to the ground. "Posy! Where's Vick?"

"They're hiding" she squeaks out between sobs and hiccups. "They thought it was a trap, but I ran away from them. I knew it was you guys."

"They?" Gale asks, "who else is with Vick?"

"Delly and Nick. They're been really nice and kept us safe. The peacekeepers came, Gale. And mom told us to run to Peeta's, so we did, and we found Delly there and she said we had to hide, so we came here."

"Ok, Posy, it's going to be OK. Where are they hiding now?" Gale has remained remarkably calm.

I fumble with my earpiece, and as soon as I put it in I can hear Jackson and Haymitch both berating us.

"Guys!" I finally yell into my microphone. "We found Posy, we're getting the others. Someone come and take her to safety."

The earpiece falls silent and Jackson barks, "location, Soldier?"

I give her general directions. Gale and I glean from Posy's description that the others are nearby, but well hidden in the cliffs that border the river. We leave her a safe distance away with a description of Jackson and Leeg. I radio to Jackson, describing Posy and our position. She responds with annoyance and commands that we "hold our position" until she and Leeg arrive.

Gale and I pick our way down the cliff face, disregarding her commands. Our guns throw off our balance, making the trip slower. Finally, we are close enough to start scouring the area, on the lookout for signs of humans. A broken twig here, a footprint there...Vick, Delly and Nick are definitely in the area.

We begin calling again, identifying ourselves. Jackson continues to yell in my ear, now joined by Haymitch and Boggs. Once she reports that she's found Posy, I take the earpiece out again. Gale hasn't put his back in at all.

From an outcropping in front of us, we're greeted by Delly Cartwright, holding a peacekeeper's gun, aiming at our heads.

Delly, who's always been level headed, friendly, and non-violent, greets us with a wild look and her finger on the trigger. "How do I know it's really you guys?"

She has a point. I wouldn't put it past the Capitol to impersonate people. I search my brain for something to prove who I am. "Delly, you helped me pick a red dress for my last reaping. And you had to special order my boots and hide them in a miner's order."

Gale looks behind her at Nick, who has come out of the shadows: "and I've punched you in the face twice. Where's my brother?"

Nick breaks into a smile, and Vick runs from behind him and into Gale's arms, attempting to seem manly and grown up even though he's obviously scared out of his mind. I scramble to fix my earpiece again. "Jackson, we've found Vick, Delly and Nick. We're heading back up." She begins to lecture me again, so I pull the headphone out of my ear.

Halfway up, a thought occurs to me: "Nick, where's Bannock? He's on the list, too."

"Bannock wants to stay in town and fight. We last saw him with my dad when we left town."

Delly chimes in, "we have so many questions...how did you find us? Where did you get the uniforms? Did you track down your parents yet?"

Gale looks to me. They don't know what happened. "We'll need to talk about all that when we're on the hovercraft. But you should know we're with District 13."

"Hovercraft?" Vick has been quiet during our hike, but his interest is piqued. "Do you think they'll let me see the cockpit?"

"District 13?" Nick breaks in. "I'm really confused."

Gale tries to figure out what they know (and don't know) while I put my earpiece back in. "Jackson, where are we meeting the hovercraft?"

"You need to go a half mile north and we'll meet you in a clearing. And you'll be disciplined for today's behavior." She's still annoyed. "But good job, soldier."

We climb aboard the hovercraft, and even Haymitch looks happy. "Just have to pick up the other crew and we're home free with 30 minutes to spare."

"Haymitch." Gale's voice is serious. "They haven't had power for a week. And they escaped the district before...they don't know any of it."

"Any of what?" Nick asks with suspicion.

Gale and Haymitch exchange a look as I buckle Posy into her seat and Vick looks around the hovercraft with interest.

"I'm sorry about Prim." Posy whispers, looking sad. I look to Gale and raise my eyebrows. They don't even know Prim is alive, which means they don't even know _why_ their parents were taken, let alone that their parents are dead.

"There's a lot to cover" Haymitch responds, "and it's best left until we've gotten Rory and Peeta. They were in town looking for you guys, but now they know we're coming so they can meet the hovercraft."

The hovercraft begins lowering onto the green of the Victors' Village when it all goes to hell.


	35. War

First, there's yelling in my earpiece and Haymitch and Jackson frantically push toward the cockpit. Gale, who never put his earpiece back in, looks to me with questions.

I don't know how to explain what's happening. Boggs is yelling about incoming aircraft, and Peeta says something about the Meadow and Peacekeepers. Rory's feed is quickly cut off when he bursts into a string of expletives. Leeg 2 says, "if we're not at the original meeting spot in 10 minutes, take off without us."

Then someone cuts all the feeds but Boggs and Haymitch.

Boggs is calm and explains "we were in the meadow when a Capitol aircraft appeared out of nowhere. It shot at us, then landed. Approximately 20 peacekeepers are now on the ground."

The aircraft must have missed us by moments.

Peeta and Rory's crew is now on their way up to Victors' Village, trying to stay out of sight and get here quickly. There's only so long we can be here with our shields down – we're sitting ducks.

Gale has finally gotten his earpiece back in, strapped his gun back on, and is making his way toward the door. "C'mon, Catnip, let's get them on board."

Jackson protests and Posy starts whimpering as she figures out what's going on. We go anyway. I turn around and look to Haymitch, "do what you have to. Keep them alive. We'll be fine." If they need to leave without us, we'll survive.

The Victors' Village is eerily silent, and the humidity makes it feel almost stagnant. We know the route they're taking, and start making our way down the path, stealing along the edges so we won't be seen. We come across the split in the path; one way to town, one way toward the Seam and the Meadow, and a third path that goes by the mine and the train station. We choose the middle path.

About a hundred yards in, we catch a glimpse of Rory. Gale hisses, "Rory, come on!"

Rory raises his gun for a second until he recognizes us, then runs in our direction. Peeta, Boggs and Leeg 2 follow shortly behind, and Cressida and the cameramen traipse behind them, weighed down by their equipment.

Peeta runs back to help them and Boggs follows, muttering into his earpiece. They must have blocked Gale and I from the channel, because I don't know what he's saying.

We've gotten the whole group to the edge of the Village entrance when the gunfire starts.

Gale and I had been right all along; this was a trap. The peacekeepers that landed in the meadow must have been meant to herd the rescue team toward this area, the crossroads of this side of the district. From all around us, peacekeepers appear. They've been out of site; lying in wait to get enough of us. They knew we'd come to find our families. Maybe they didn't know where our families were, but they knew the places we'd check, and now they waited until they had the opportunity to start shooting. Not only that, but we're leading them straight for our aircraft.

These thoughts speed through my mind as we break into sprints, heading back to the hovercraft anyway. It's the only way to safety at this point. Leeg and Gale are ahead of me; Boggs, Peeta, Rory and the film crew behind me. Somehow, the cameras have red lights on them. They're still filming.

I dodge left and right, hoping to make myself a poor target. We're closer. Gale and Leeg are less than 100 yards from the hovercraft. Whenever I see a flash of peacekeeper uniform, I shoot, not knowing how many peacekeepers I hit.

Then I hear a yell from behind me. Peeta has fallen, shot by a group of peacekeepers coming from the Seam. They must have been hiding in abandoned (or emptied) houses. Rory and Boggs stop to help Peeta up and support him in their run back. They're quickly overtaken by the film crew as we dodge the flurry of bullets.

As Gale climbs into the hovercraft, he turns around to see where the rest of us are. Upon seeing his brother and Boggs struggle with Rory, he jumps back down the stairs and begins shooting back at the visible peacekeepers.

Then Rory stumbles and a red stain begins spreading down his arm. Now he, too is struggling. He's supporting Peeta with one arm, but the other hangs useless. When Gale jumps off the stairs and run towards me, I know what he's doing and I follow.

"No, Catnip, stay here. Pick off the peacekeepers from the steps!" he yells as soon as he notices me. I'm torn between following him back into the battle and running for the ship. I know logically that he's right; I'm most useful as a sniper. But I can't help from wanting to be in the thick of it with the people I care about.

I follow logic instead of emotion. From the steps I aim at the white uniforms, picking them off one by one. I refuse to count, refuse to think about anything but aiming and firing. Time moves in slow motion. My gun is not as familiar as my bow, but I make due.

Gale reaches his brother and takes over in helping Boggs to drag Peeta toward the ship. He yells to Rory, and Rory starts running a bit faster. Eventually one of the cameramen begins to help Rory run as he tries to stem the blood flowing from his arm. Rory and the cameraman reach the ship just after Cressida and the other cameraman. Rory disappears inside and the film crew stays behind to get footage of what's happening.

Boggs and Gale are all but dragging Peeta to the ship while I try to stop the flurry of bullets by picking off peacekeepers. I hear Haymitch yelling at us to get inside, that we're taking off in 30 seconds regardless of who is on board, but I keep shooting, defending Gale, Peeta and Boggs.

The film crew dives inside as I help pull Peeta into the ship. The door seals behind us, and we lurch into the air before anyone can strap in or even hold on. Gale catches me as I fall to the ground next to Rory. Behind me, I can hear Boggs and Jackson beginning crude first aid. I'm kicking myself (and mentally cursing President Coin) for not having a medic with us. I notice Rory still clutching his arm, and I crawl over to help him. I've watched my mother do her healer work since I was a child, and I steel myself to figure out what to do.

As I rip off the arm of his uniform to get a better look, the ship lurches. There's yelling from the cockpit and I have to grab hold of a seat to keep my place on the floor.

Gale hands me a bottle of water so I can flush away some of the blood. Luckily, the wound doesn't look too deep, but it needs to be wrapped to stop the bleeding. Gale quickly strips off his undershirt and hands it to me, re-buttoning his uniform.

Rory has been letting loose a string of expletives until this point, but once I start wrapping it, he begins to calm down. It's clear he's been panicking and having some sort of flashback.

"Rory! Pay attention! We've got Posy and Vick. It's going to be OK." I keep repeating that last part, "it's going to be OK," over and over, to reassure Rory, Gale and myself.

The ship heaves again, and some sort of alarm goes off. I'm sure we're going to die. I hear Posy scream, and Gale rushes over to sit next to her. He's torn between his siblings. Rory, who is injured, and Posy and Vick, who are terrified.

I'm torn between comforting Rory and checking on Peeta. Boggs and Jackson seem to have some field medic training, and sound calm and confident, but I saw Peeta get shot through the hip, and I know how dangerous a wound like that can be. All I can do is hope we get back to District 13 quickly.

Once the hovercraft evens out and the alarms stop, Delly unstraps herself and tiptoes over to where Peeta lays on the floor.

I turn my back, hoping to give them some privacy. But I can hear the murmurs of both of their voices, so I'm reassured that Peeta is at least conscious. He'll be OK.

After a few more stomach-dropping lurches and a rough landing, we eventually taxi into District 13. The hovercraft is met by a crew of medics and doctors, who quickly cart off Peeta and Rory. The film crew jumps from the hovercraft when Plutarch appears, and Haymitch follows. The rest of the mission crew slowly disembarks for "debriefing."

Boggs informs us that we're excused to go help the new residents setle in. This leaves Delly, Nick, me, and the Hawthorne siblings. Delly and Posy have been crying, and Nick looks shell shocked at what just happened. Vick is holding himself together admirably, but looks as if he'd rather curl into a ball and cry.

And they don't even know yet what happened to their families. That's been left to us.

Gale and I probably have the least tact and sensitivitiy of anyone in 13, so we're naturally the best choice.

The pilots usher us off the hovercraft and toward the Acclimation office. While we wait, everyone stares at one another. Nick and Delly clearly want to know what's going on, but they're afraid to ask in front of the kids.

I finally clear my throat. "Uh...I feel like there's a lot to fill you guys in on..."

Just then, Prim rounds the corner and nearly knocks Delly to the ground. Prim has been filming all morning, and still has her hair and makeup perfectly done.

The District 12 rescues are at a loss for words. Posy finally speaks up: "Prim!?" She squeals and launches herself into Prim's arms.

"So, Prim's alive..." I supply weakly.

"But we saw you die on TV. The kid from 1..." Nick looks confused.

"Yeah, they made that up," Prim says proudly, ruffling Posy's hair. "I made a statement for the districts a few days ago, but I guess you guys didn't have electricity, so you didn't see it?"

Delly and Nick nod.

I interrupt quietly, "they didn't see last night, either..."

Prim gets quiet.

"What happened last night?" asks Vick, looking suspicious.

"Well..." I look at Prim and Gale with panic. I don't want to be the one who has to say it.

Gale puts an arm around Posy's shoulders, and Prim kneels down next to her and begins, "sweetie, last night they showed your mom and my mom and Peeta and Nick's dad on TV. They knew how brave they were, and knew they were trying to get people to take back District 12, so they..." Tears fill Prim's eyes.

"So they killed them, Posy," Gale finishes, almost inaudible.

Posy's eyes grow big and begin to fill with tears. "Mommy?" Gale nods and folds her into his arms.

My heart breaks. I feel tears press against the back of my eyes as Vick joins them, sniffling.

Delly hugs Nick, her own sobs audible in the quiet hallway. He continues the blank look I've come to recognize on him recently. In the past 3 years he's lost both parents and his wife. And now his brother is injured.

Prim stumbles over to me and lays her head on my shoulder and begins to sob in earnest, her makeup running down her face. I eventually join her.

Nearly 20 minutes later, the frazzled lady appears, obviously hesitant to interrupt us. Posy is clinging to Gale and sobbing, and the rest of us have red-rimmed eyes. She finally glances at the files in her hands, "uh, I need the Hawthornes first, then Miss Cartwright, then Mr. Mellark."

Prim follows Gale and I as we usher the kids into the Acclimation office. Posy looks conflicted over whether she wants to perch on Gale or Prim's lap, but eventually curls up in Gale's lap, her thumb in her mouth.

And so we go through the now-familiar script of brusque questions, answering them as best as possible.

Yes, Gale and I are willing to take custody of Posy and Vick. (The alternative is District 13's version of the Community Home - a horrifying possibility)

Yes, we'd like to take a few "bereavement" days.

Yes, we're OK with moving to a family floor into a larger compartment.

Prim speaks up quietly, "Rory and I, too?"

"You and Soldier Hawthorne what?" the lady asks sternly.

"Um...I think we'd like to stay with our family as well. We're technically underage and..."

"The two of you are married in the eyes of District 13." The Acclimation lady seems annoyed.

"I know...I just...we want to be as close as possible to everyone..." Prim has been confident and poised for the past few days, but since last night she's collapsed. It takes everything I have not to hold her in my lap like she's 8 years old.

With a heavy sigh, the lady taps into her computer a few more times. "Fine, I can get you a 3 room compartment. You all can figure out the sleeping arrangements yourselves. You'll have until tomorrow morning to vacate your previous compartments."

Prim leans her head against my shoulder as the woman distributes uniforms and directions, sending us up to Compartment C-135.

* * *

When dinner time rolls around, Rory comes up from the hospital and meet us at the dining hall. He has his bandage-wrapped arm in a sling. Posy squeals in delight when she sees him and launches herself at his good arm. I catch a glimpse of a tear as he embraces his siblings. He also brings news about Peeta: he needed surgery but is expected to make a quick recovery. Delly and Nick eventually join us for dinner, but have been spending most of the afternoon visiting Peeta. Nick will get a few days of bereavement leave (which District 13 seems to think is beyond generous) before beginning his training. Because she has not lost a "direct blood relative," Delly will begin her training tomorrow. Both have been sentenced to the singles barracks.

Delly gives me a brave smile as she says goodnight. "Great opportunity to meet people, don't you think?"

* * *

We field a multitude of questions from Posy that night.

"Why do Prim and Rory get to share a room like grown ups?"

(Gale's answer to that one is "because they decided they're grown ups even though they're not.")

"Why does everyone live underground?"

"Do I get to be a soldier?"

"What will I learn in school?"

"Can I paint my room?"

"Why do I have to share with Vick?"

By the time we put her to bed, we're exhausted. I guess I prefer the questioning Posy to the sobbing Posy, but we've only been in charge of her for like 10 hours. I try to imagine what it will be like to take charge of her for the next 10 years. It's overwhelming. In just a few days, we've gone from total freedom: surviving in the woods on our own, to orphans in charge of raising our siblings. Vick is, as always, quiet and serious. I'm not sure how to approach him or break through to him. And Posy is simply tiring. Eight-year-old Prim was quieter and more cooperative.

"How are we going to do this?" I ask Gale as we collapse into bed.

"Together," is the sleepy response from the other pillow.

In the middle of the night Posy crawls between us in bed and snuggles closely beside me. This I'm familiar with. This I can do.

* * *

Within days, Posy and Vick begin school and the rest of us return to training, healing and taping. Life falls into a predictable routine: the kids are in school from breakfast until dinner. The rest of us have our training and our jobs. Rory, Prim and Peeta continue to tape propos for the Capitol. The Capitol responds with Propos of their own, featuring victors from Districts 1 and 2.

The Capitol bombs 12. District 13 manages to rescue a few, but most of what we've known is gone.

District 13 shows our dramatic exit from District 12 as if it were a heroic turning point, rather than a botched mission.

At night, Gale and I cling to one another and fend off nightmares. Posy rotates in and out of our room and Prim's, fighting off nightmares of her own.

The war is in full swing by the time Gale and I graduate boot camp. Our graduation is...delayed...due to what Jackson called "blatant insubordination and an inability to take orders." I decide to take that as a compliment.

Boggs assigns Gale to the same squad as Rory and Peeta. Their squad generally stays out of the real fighting, but they're a regular feature in propos. The "star squad" I hear people call it.

I'm assigned to a sniper unit.

After we graduate, my hair is cut (I jokingly offer the long braid to Gale for safekeeping) and we're given a guide to our deployment schedules. For security reasons, we're not given exact schedules, but a general framework. Because we're in charge of minors, our deployments will alternate. For 3-5 weeks we'll each be in the field, then we'll have 3 days respite when we return home to reconnect. Then the other spouse is deployed.

During deployment (currently in District 2, the last district which has escaped rebel control), I tolerate the cold, damp conditions and food rations, if only because I get to spend my days and nights outdoors in the fresh air. I have a few friends in my unit; another refugee who is about my age from District 4 (she's better with a harpoon than a rifle) becomes my bunkmate. I never learn her real name, everyone just calls her "Trout." We spend our active duty perched on top of buildings, picking off anyone who threatens the advancing troops. Over time, I learn to relish those hours alone with my thoughts, watching and waiting.

When I'm home and Gale's out, I find myself curled around his pillow, which still somehow smells of the woods. _We're in this together_ becomes my mantra as I take responsibility for Posy and Vick. Prim's medic deployments are much more unpredictable (a few days here, a couple weeks there), so I can't always rely on her to help. I long to grab Gale and leave all this behind. Live outdoors instead of underground. Run our lives together, instead of in shifts. The only way to make that happen is to win this war, so I throw myself harder into training, learning, and yes, even my job serving food.

Gale becomes close to his squad. I really wouldn't mind (he's always been more outgoing than me), except all the young, healthy victors are on his squad. One in particular, Johanna Mason, enjoys hanging off of my husband and laughing at my responses. Finnick (who I cautiously trust because Peeta trusts him) says she's joking, but I don't like it. Gale finds my jealousy amusing. Finnick's wife, Annie, another victor, becomes my friend as well. Her medical bracelet says "mentally disoriented," but I often feel like she's one of the few people who truly know what's going on.

She' doesn't trust Coin either.

While they're deployed, I eat my meals with Annie and Delly, the three of us supporting one another while the Star Squad is gone.

* * *

In late January, the Star Squad is again sent to District 2. I think Coin and Plutarch are hoping to show District 2 exactly what the Capitol is doing to their people. Gale, Peeta and Rory are at the forefront of this particular propo as they tour the old Peacekeepers' training center. There are the expected barracks (which look just like District 13's) and mess halls. The center must have been built to accommodate thousands. But deep in the catacombs beneath, the rebels have uncovered torture chambers. Dimly lit operating rooms where Avoxes are created. Electrical torture machines. There's evidence of so much more...rape, dismemberment.

When Gale comes home for our 3-day respite, he tells me that the propo whitewashed the situation. He's nearly sick with rage. We live in a country where children are forced to kill one another, and there's still government-sanctioned torture going on that is too disgusting for TV. We avoid talking about the details until Posy and Vick head off to school, then we shut the door to our room so we can discuss in private. Gale tells me what he's seen, his face growing pale and sweaty.

"I can't get some of those things out of my head. I never will." He lays his head on my shoulder as we lie in bed, and I stroke his back gently. I can't rescue him from this.

We can still hear Rory ranting to Prim. Throwing things around. Swearing. I can hear the quiet cadence of Prim's voice trying to soothe him, talk him down.

When he bursts into our door and stomps into the room, we both jump a mile. He's dragging Prim by the arm.

"Tell her, Gale. Tell her that it is that bad." He roughly lets go of Prim's arm and she rubs it a few times.

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Rory, I don't think Prim needs to hear about this. It's bad enough that you had to see it..." Gale begins.

Prim breaks in, "he says they're going to collapse the mountain on people. He says they deserve it. And he says it was Gale's idea."

I look to my husband in horror. "Gale, that's how our fathers _died_. We're supposed to be on the side that's ending this, the side that says enough people have died! You have to go tell them to call it off! I know you saw some horrible things, but this isn't right." I blink back angry tears.

Gale throws me a defensive look and hops off the bed. "I didn't tell them to do it! I just threw the idea out there. I didn't know they would run with it...but really Katniss, you can't tell me this isn't right. Look at everything they've done to people..."

Prim is practically yelling. "That doesn't make it right, Gale. That makes us as bad as them." Until this moment, I've never actually been afraid of her. She's sweet and good and kind...but right now she's seething with an anger I hadn't expected. "I'm not here by choice, Gale. I'm here because it's the right thing to do. I'm here because someone has to make it stop! Those people have families, lives..." She trails off and looks at the three of us for a few moments. "I'm leaving. When I get back, I'm sharing a room with Posy." And she storms from the compartment.

Rory's anger hasn't been tempered by Prim's reaction. Instead, it's grown. "She doesn't understand what it takes to win a war. She doesn't understand what it's like. I don't care what's right or wrong, I want every person who is loyal to the Capitol dead. I'll drag them down to those fucking torture chambers myself."

On his way out of the room, he kicks a chair in our tiny living room and slams the door.

I whirl around to look at Gale. "I promised you we were in this together. No matter what. We're right at the edge of that."

"You don't understand, Catnip. What those people are capable of..."

"I don't care what they're capable of, what they've done. I care what _you_ are capable of. I care whether _you're_ the one coming up with callous, cruel plans. Hell, I don't even care what Rory does as long as he never grabs my sister like that again. I care that _you're_ the one who thinks that people deserve to be crushed and buried and suffocated, just because of where they're born."

"I'm sorry." He knows how weak his words sound.

"Will they change their minds?" I ask.

"I'm pretty sure they've already done it. Coin gave the orders as we were leaving." He swallows hard and breathes heavily for a minute, then retches into the garbage bin. I watch with my arms crossed as the impact of what he's done comes over him. I refuse to comfort him, refuse to come near him.

"I'll be the one who moves in with Prim for now. You can share with Rory."

I storm out with hopefully less drama than our siblings. I can't even see straight. I'm angry, but beneath it there's a level of hopelessness. I depend on Gale. We're supposed to be in this together, but now I can't even trust that he knows what's right.

I spend most of the evening curled up in the ventilation shaft I found our first week here, trying not to cry.

When I get back to our compartment, I move in with Prim, leaving the boys to figure things out on their own. My own deployment can't come fast enough.

* * *

**Thank you, reviewers! Things are going to come much more slowly for the rest of the story, so don't fret if you don't hear from me for a week or two. **

**One reason: I had a thought in my head the other day that wouldn't go away, so I am writing a second, unplanned fanfic. It's completely different from this one, but I'd love to have you all head over there and tell me what you think!**

**It's a Harry Potter fanfic that is NOT in line with the epilogue. Instead it focuses on Ron and Luna, and what it would be like if they were together. My brain is weird. Anywho, it's much more lighthearted than this one and quite fluffy. The chapters are short and quick to read. So please tell me what you think of my insanity. :) **** s/11462379/1/Of-Bare-Feet-and-Blibbering-Humdingers**


	36. Stalemate

During my deployment, I stew in my feelings about Gale. The sniper squad is stationed in a small District 2 settlement and shipped into the main city each day. Our job is to guard what remains of their main military center, picking off any lingering threats. What I see disgusts me: the grief of the families, the sheer number of casualties, and the knowledge that many of the people inside were just living their lives and trying to stay safe.

Trout is on leave for the first few days I'm back, so I have plenty of time to lie in our empty tent and think. When Prim's medic unit meets up with mine, she joins me each night, barely functioning in her grief.

"Where do you and Gale stand?" she asks one night, lying on Trout's cot. A light snow has begun falling outside, and we're both cranky from being damp and cold day and night.

I answer honestly, "I don't know, Duck. I think we need to be away from all of this to figure it out."

"I'm not sure Rory and I can stay together after this." She sniffles in the darkness. "I always thought nothing could change us...but he's _so_ angry, so blind...I feel like all of this broke him."

"You can't go back to him if he's going to act how he's been acting. The way he grabbed you..." There were a few families in District 12 where the men pushed around the women and the peacekeepers looked the other way. The wives would come to my mother with dislocated shoulders, bloody lips...sometimes worse.

That's not going to be Prim, not while I can help it.

"He's not the same person," she agrees, her voice breaking. "I'm so stupid, Katniss. How could we be so stupid? We're too young, there was too much going on. I thought being married was just like we were before, only we got to live together. But there's so much more, and now his decisions are my decisions..." she trails off, sobbing.

"This is not your fault." _And thank goodness you're not really married,_ I add in my mind.

"I should have done more, I should have tried harder to help him see..."

"You can't save him or fix him, Prim. You can't carry that burden around. Terrible things have happened to Rory, and you can't change what that's done to him."

There are sobs from the other cot, and Prim eventually crawls into my bed. "I just wish I could love him enough so he was less angry," she hiccups.

"That's not how it works," I remind her as I stroke her hair, thinking of Gale. Gale will have to figure out for himself what's right and wrong. I know in my heart what's right; I won't back down from that. I will fight for my family, but I won't put innocent people in harm's way if I can help it. I just hope my husband comes to the same conclusion.

The days stretch on, each one the same as the last. Trout comes back from her leave and immediately picks up on my mood. I explain the basics of what's going on, but I otherwise leave it alone.

It feels as if the war is at a standstill. District 2 remains unstable; even with the military base destroyed, there are loyalists in many settlements, and we're constantly on guard for ambushes and outbreaks of fighting.

When I get back to District 13, the tension in the air is different, but just as thick. Gale and I barely speak for the 3 days we have together, and I count myself lucky that Rory is out on deployment.

After Gale leaves again, I collapse into our bed and bury my face in his pillow. It smells like him. Like the woods and coal...it smells safe and familiar. I battle my need to have him around and the feeling of loss. He's different than the person I thought he was, his goals are different than mine. And I'm not sure where that leaves us.

One night, Posy crawls into my bed and catches me clinging to Gale's pillow with tears in my eyes.

"Do you miss Gale, Katniss? I miss him, too." She sniffles a bit as I take her in my arms. "And Rory. But even when they're here, they're mad all the time."

"I know sweetie. There's a lot going on and they don't know what to do."

"Are you and Prim mad, too?" Her voice shakes, and I realize how hard this must be on her. She lost her mother, and the only other parental figures she knows are a mess.

"We're scared and confused, but not mad. And never at you." I snuggle her more closely into my side.

* * *

Gale and I trade off deployments again, careful in our 3 days together to present a cheerful, confident face to the kids. Vick is chosen for an advanced school program, and he's hoping to become a hovercraft pilot. Posy makes friends and spends her evenings telling us about the fun they have.

Gale and I sleep in separate beds. I join Prim when he's around, and Rory storms off to sleep in the singles barracks. Haymitch is busy in Command, and the rest of the Star Squad is subdued. The whole district is stuck waiting for whatever will happen next.

Finally, after 2 more rounds of deployments and awkward days together, I'm with one of the first groups shipped to the outskirts of the Capitol. As we flop down in our new tent (centered around heaters since the weather is well below freezing), Trout tells me what she's heard: a few squads will be left to watch over District 2, but everyone else will be shipped to the Capitol. They're hoping to amass the majority of 13's military, along with much of the district rebellion, to finally overtake the Capitol. Soldiers are pouring in from everywhere. The fishermen from District 4 and techies from District 3 shiver in awe at the snow. The District 1 soldiers have fur-lined mittens. Districts 10 and 11 dress in leather and bring with them increased rations and loud, unrelenting chatter. District 12 provides next to nothing; most of us were decimated months ago, and those who have survived are shipped in with District 13's soldiers.

Each day, Trout and I (along with the rest of our squad) perch atop abandoned buildings or on the edge of mountain ridges. Our job at this point is simply to watch the scouts, taking out any threats to their survival.

By the end of the week, I've managed to shoot a mountain lion and nothing else.

We grow bored and begin making lists of what we miss from home.

"Fresh seafood." Trout breaks a 20 minute silence one morning as we shiver in our lookout.

"The woods." I blow into my hands.

"The sun back when it was WARM!" She yells, as if the sun can hear her.

"Hunting."

"Fishing."

"Boots that fit me."

"Clothes that had color."

"Gale." We rarely share much about the people we miss. I know the basics. Trout lost her family during the uprising and just barely escaped when the Capitol bombed. She has a leg full of scars to prove it.

Trout puts an arm around me, padded with layers and layers of dull gray fabric. "You'll figure it out," she says, eyes still on the valley we're defending. "The war has to end someday, then you can rebuild."

I hope so.

Our camp is the largest of several, scattered among the abandoned villages on the outskirts of the Capitol. Luckily, the "Star Squad" is also stationed here, which means Peeta and I can huddle by the giant heaters in the evenings. He grumbles about the too-rehearsed propo shoots and frets over Delly (who is back in 13, and wants nothing to do with mandatory military training). I grumble about Gale and Rory, and fret over Prim (who seems to be sent into the field much too often for my comfort). We clutch mugs of hot tea and watch the regulated chaos of the military camp.

It strikes me one evening that Peeta has easily become my best friend, and I his. Our parents are dead. We have our siblings, but they have their own lives. He has Delly, I have Gale...but without Madge around, the only other close relationship we have is with one another. I can't determine whether that's a lonely or comforting thought.

Of course, sometimes we spend our evenings with Trout, or with the rest of the Star Squad (minus Rory, who has the good sense to avoid me). I soon learn to appreciate Finnick for who he is, rather than who the Capitol made him be. I even reach some sort of understanding with Johanna. Yes, she's crude and loud, but that's one of her many defenses. If I understand anything, it's the need for a shell.

A couple of weeks in, as Peeta and I huddle beside the heater in comfortable silence, a quiet figure sits down beside me. He doesn't say a word, just stares at the artificial warmth.

Peeta pats me on the arm, stands, and walks away, leaving me with our new visitor.

"Catnip." Gale's voice is cautious.

"Who's with the kids?" I ask, knowing that the original arrangement had us on opposite deployments. Surely District 13 wouldn't send them to the Community Home, right?

"They said Prim could stay with Vick and Posy...they needed as many people out here for the siege. And you know...Star Squad," he gestures to his uniform.

I lean my head on his shoulder. "I miss you." I say it quietly, unsure of what else to broach where we are. Too much is unsaid.

His arm slips around me and he kisses my forehead. "Me, too, Catnip."

We sit like that long after camp settles into the quiet hum of nighttime. This isn't an apology. I'm not sure it's even a truce. It's a simple acknowledgement that we're in over our heads, and we don't know what tomorrow will bring. And, as we have for 8 years, we need one another.

This becomes our new routine. We don't talk much. We don't kiss or make love...but every evening we sit by the heaters together, alone in our thoughts, but present together until we retire to our separate tents. For now, it's enough.

The Rebel forces advance on the Capitol, inch by inch, day by day. Soon, I find myself roosting on top of recently-inhabited buildings just inside the limits of the Capitol. The residents have been driven slowly toward the city center.

Gale and Peeta's squad trails just behind the leading front, shooting propos. Haymitch and Beetee have been moved to a temporary command center in the main encampment, and from there they are often able to break into the Capitol feed. They supplement the "combat propos" with Prim's narration. I'm uncomfortable with the amount of attention Prim is getting, as I worry she could become a target for assassination. But her story seems to have captured the attention of the Capitol and Rebellion alike.

It also means that she and Rory frequently appear together on screen, regardless of their private stalemate.

Finally, in the last cold weeks before spring breaks through, our commanders gather us around and plan for the final overthrow of Snow's government. We've been deployed for well over 2 months by now, but no one is allowed to return to 13. Every person is needed.

Peeta frequently brings up his concern: civilian casualties. I'm sure there are soldiers (well, "soldiers," it still feels like many of us are playing at being in combat) all over the camps raising the same concerns. But Peeta's voice is more likely to be heard. Eventually, just after dinner one night, the argument comes to a head.

Peeta has been discussing his worries with Boggs and Coin. My attempts to support him were met with scorn or ignored outright, so he's been spending most of his evenings talking to them himself. Tonight he's meeting with a group that also contains Haymitch, Plutarch and Beetee. Beetee's presenting some population projections regarding the importance of preserving life. Finnick and I are hanging in the perimeter of the meeting, evesdropping. And Peeta is arguing impassionedly about the importance of protecting innocent civilians.

At this point, Coin bites back, "President Snow's M.O. has been to target innocents specifically and repeatedly. We will not show them the mercy they have refused to show others."

Beetee protests, "but we will need to have a population high enough for long-term survival..."

"I've heard your arguments and taken them into account. As I've said before, we will not specifically target innocents unless necessary. However, we will not slow our advance or avoid certain areas simply to protect them. If we show weakness, if we slow down, we may not prevail." She gives another wave of her hand to dismiss Peeta and Beetee.

"With all due respect, President Coin, many people might think that makes us no better than them." Peeta fixes Coin with a hard gaze.

From behind me, Rory bursts into the meeting, pushing Finnick and I aside. Gale appears at my shoulder and murmurs, "I tried to keep him out of it..."

"Stop being such a pussy, Mellark. Who cares if we kill some Capitol stooges? Do you remember what they did to you? To me? Do you remember the Hunger Games, Peeta? Remember when you killed? Remember what you told me before I went into the arena?" He takes a deep breath and does his best Peeta impression, "'whatever happens out there, Rory, it's not your fault. It's the Capitol's fault. The only way home is to stay alive,' and guess what Peeta? It's _still_ the Capitol's fault. So no, we're no better than them, but it doesn't matter. They all have to burn." Rory's voice cracks a bit at the end of his tirade and his eyes are wild. I'm not sure if he's going to cry or tackle Peeta. Instead he marches back into the maze of tents.

Coin appraises the Victors. "You'd be wise to follow Soldier Hawthorne's example, Peeta, and support the decisions we've made. Your life will be much easier when we win."

My blood runs cold at her words, and even Gale's arm around me doesn't bring warmth. She's threatening him.

Beetee and Haymitch avoid eye contact and retreat into the temporary shelter. Coin fixes Peeta with a stern gaze and follows.

* * *

The Rebellion continues to advance on the Capitol, slowly tightening the noose we've formed around the city. From our rooftop roosts, Trout and I watch the exodus of innocent people, ever mindful to look for peacekeepers or threats to our troops.

"I don't like this," she mutters one day as we watch a family wander down the street in the cold. The smallest member, who can't be more than 2 years old, toddles along crying. She wears no coat, and her lips are blue.

"Me neither," I agree.

That night as we return to our tent, Coin announces that she's brought in all the reserve troops for the final push to the city center. Once there, we will capture the president, take over the mansion, and put an end to this war. A mix of dread and relief floods my system.

The dread only gets worse when my sister appears at dinner.

* * *

**So, that didn't turn out how I planned/expected, but I'm content with it. Let me know what you think!**


	37. No Winner

"You're not supposed to be here!" I'm aware that it's a poor greeting for my sister, but my mind has forgotten everything else. She's _not_ supposed to be anywhere near the war, even as a medic. She's supposed to be safely underground, hundreds of miles away from the fighting, caring for Posy and Vick.

"Who's with the kids?" Gale asks, likely imagining the community home kids back in 12.

Prim rests her head in her hands. "Delly. When I got my orders, I panicked and told the head medic that I was the only one left in charge of Posy and Vick. I thought they'd keep me there...instead they gave me the list of people who weren't combat ready and told me to choose."

"You made a good choice, Duck." I pat her on the back. "But why did they ship you here anyway?"

Her voice is barely audible. "They need me for the Star Squad."

"The _what?!"_ I run through thoughts about _why_ they would want her for the Star Squad, how in Panem she could be helpful, and my fear that she would be involved in actual combat. The Star Squad was rarely in more than a brief skirmish, but the possibility was always there. In fact, I was sure they were purposefully being made into a target.

"As in, the squad Rory and I are on?" Gale chokes out. "Doing what?"

"They want me to at least hold a gun...I guess the propos of me just talking aren't enough...they want to show Rory and I working together, and that I'm willing to fight."

"So wait...they rescued you from a situation in which you were forced to fight against your will...and now they're making you fight against your will?" I start to cycle through my options...I have no authority to get her out of this, but I can find someone who does.

I grab Gale's arm and yank him with me. "Come on, we're finding Haymitch."

Prim scurries behind us as we traipse through camp toward the Command trailer.

"Haymitch!" I burst through the door, startling both Haymitch and Plutarch.

"Having an issue, Sweetheart?" he asks. I grab Prim and shove her in front of me. Haymitch's eyes widen.

"What's she doing here?" He looks to Plutarch with raised eyebrows. Plutarch shrugs, and they have a silent conversation with raised eyebrows.

"They put me on the Star Squad," Prim says.

At that piece of news, Haymitch loudly proclaims, "I need a walk," and breezes past us and out of the trailer.

We follow as he leads us past the rows of tents and far from the warmth of the heaters. We finally reach a clearing away from earshot of other people. He motions for us to gather close. Plutarch huffs and puffs his way into the circle.

"Look, Abernathy, I didn't know they'd bring the girl out here when I agreed to put that squad – "

"Well they did, and now you'll have to answer for yet another person..." Haymitch trails off at the end of his statement, glancing at Gale for a moment.

"Another person, what?" asks Gale.

Plutarch clears his throat a few times while Haymitch stares him down, eyebrows raised. "Well...er...Coin requested that...I mean I approved...the Star Squad will be in the front line of the advance tomorrow. Tasked with..."

"Killing Snow," finishes Haymitch.

"Then Prim's not going," I say.

Haymitch stops me. "You don't have that power, Sweetheart."

"I must! She's sixteen years old! She's an orphan! She's not able to make her own choices! I'm an adult, and I'm her nearest living relative –"

"Your sister declared herself married. In the eyes of 13, that makes her an adult, and as an adult, she's required to follow the orders of the President."

"Coin..." Prim whispers. "She accepted the marriage without question..."

"She wanted you dead from the start?" I ask.

"No, she wanted power over me, and probably Rory...the ability to make decisions. So she could use us until we weren't useful any longer."

"And then what? Send you to die?"

"Catnip, they've sent us all to die," interjects Gale.

It hits me. Gale. Rory. Peeta. Even Finnick and Johanna, who I don't know terribly well, but I'm somewhat fond of. Boggs. Jackson. Really, everyone on the Star Squad.

Tasking them with killing Snow is like sending them on a suicide mission. Coin isn't looking for a victory. She's looking for martyrs. Regardless of the outcome tomorrow, she's looking for emotional capital to further her agenda which is...

That's where my thought process falls apart. What _is_ her end goal? Martyrs mean she gets support, but what will she do with that support? What will she do with the power when she gets it?

I'm not sure I want to find out.

We spend that night in Gale and Rory's tent, Prim and I in one bed, Rory in the other, and Gale on the cold floor between. At some point in the night, I roll over so I can grasp his hand, entwining my fingers. Tonight feels final. Whatever happens tomorrow, whether we win or lose, life is going to be different.

Around dawn, the camp begins to break back into life. I look down at Gale.

"You'll keep her safe, please? And yourself?"

"I'll do my best, Catnip."

I slide off the bed, careful not to disturb Prim, and snuggle into his side until we have to get up.

Trout and I are positioned on top of an abandoned building just behind the advancing front. After a dull morning of watching the troops disable defensive pods (using unmanned cars), we've choked down our lunchtime rations and are still scanning the blocks of empty buildings for signs of enemy soldiers.

My headset crackles to life. "Katniss, Trout, get ready to move forward. Six blocks due North, building is a library. Head up the fire escape and take your positions on the Northwest corner. No soldiers are available to accompany you, so you'll have to cover one another."

"The library's only 2 blocks from the City Center," Trout murmers. "We're getting close."

I breathe a sigh of relief. That also means we'll be able to see what's going on. I'll be able to keep an eye on Prim and Gale.

We creep up the rusty fire escape to perch atop the 9 story "National Panem Library and Museum." Through the windows, I can see stacks and stacks of books...statues of former Presidents...dioramas illustrating the Games.

From our vantage point, we can make out the green in front of the President's mansion. Thousands of Capitol residents have filled the streets, carrying their belongings with them. And in front of the President's mansion they've gathered hundreds of children.

A human shield.

I finally put words to my thoughts. "There's no way to end this without innocent people dying."

Trout looks stricken and whispers, "this...this isn't what we signed up for. This isn't an improvement..."

Our rifles are at the ready, and we're scanning the crowd for unfriendly soldiers, but our hearts aren't in it. With every fiber of my being, I'm fighting the urge to run, find my sister, and escape this hellhole. Leave the Capitol and denounce every moment of this war.

The only thing that keeps me on the roof of the library is that there are just as many horrors waiting for me if I desert.

And so we sit as the afternoon draws on. A few times we have no choice but to shoot, picking off peacekeepers as they encroach upon Rebel soldiers and civilians. Each time I squeeze the trigger, I cross my fingers that my aim is true. That I don't kill someone who's done nothing wrong.

My luck holds out.

From the rooftops around me, however, other snipers aren't so lucky. I watch in horror as an elderly woman is mowed down, a child loses her life, and a family is ripped apart by bullets.

I no longer feel like I'm on the side of "good," if such a thing even exists. There will be no winners today.

Dusk has begun to fall when the crowd begins stirring, screaming and shouting. The main body of rebel soldiers is advancing, the Star Squad at the helm.

I can't help but give a triumphant yell when I see Prim's blonde head, flanked by Rory and Gale. She's alive and fine.

"They're missing a few," Trout points out. The Star Squad is down a few members, but my mind is focused solely on Prim and Gale. I can figure out the rest later.

As they approach the President's mansion, I watch as the civilian crowd parts. Most people are unsure of how to react: are these soldiers liberators or foreign occupiers? Will the new regime be better or worse than the previous?

More and more Rebel soldiers flood the area, moving refugees into abandoned buildings and onto side streets. I refuse to allow myself to think about the overwhelming task of caring for all of those people.

From my vantage point, I watch various squads and soldiers station themselves at each exit to the Presidential mansion. My focus is on scouring the windows, roofs and alcoves for enemy snipers and pick them off before they can attack.

Soldiers disappear into the building, and for fifteen minutes my heart is in my throat. I can't tell which members, if any, from the Star Squad are inside, nor am I getting any clues through my headset. Trout puts an arm around me as we huddle atop the library.

In my ear, my commander says, "snipers at the ready, they are bringing the primary targets out of the Mansion."

We rise and aim toward the nearest door. Through my scope, I can see a group of Rebel soldiers opening the large double doors that serve as the main entrance to the President's mansion. The gray and black mass surges into the courtyard, arms length from where scared Capitol children huddle. The knot of soldiers push several people forward, their arms cuffed behind their backs.

President Snow kneels in the center, his arms held roughly by Gale and Rory. His advisors and assistants (including a few I recognize from the Games and other TV appearances) flank him.

I've been put back into the main headset feed again, and gather bits of information. Several soldiers are injured or killed inside the Mansion. Four major political players are missing. And Coin is on her way via hovercraft to supervise the immediate execution of the prisoners.

"You'd think she'd hold a trial or something, prove that leaders deserve a fair shake if they're caught doing something wrong," Trout points out, echoing my thoughts. Coin seems like the type who would plan ahead for her fall from grace.

We wait.

Haymitch's voice appears in my ear. I glance at Trout, who doesn't react. She's not hearing this.

"Katniss. Peeta. Gale. She expects someone to step forward, be the voice of reason. Call for a trial. Don't be that person. Don't let Prim—" his voice crackles back out of my ear as the main feed cuts in again.

I utter a very Rory-esque word under my breath, and Trout looks to me with questions in her eyes. I wave her off.

The hovercraft carrying Coin lands in a cleared area of the courtyard as I try to figure out what to do. I'm too far from the Mansion to truly communicate with the others, and I'm unsure if Haymitch will find his way back into my ear.

Questions run through my mind as Coin departs her ship and my commander barks orders in my ear.

_Why does she want someone else to call for a trial? _

"Snipers, be prepared for anyone who looks to threaten President Coin as she speaks."

_Why shouldn't we be those people?_

"We will be broadcasting her speech over Snow's network in 30 seconds."

_Why did Haymitch warn us? Specifically me? I'm not even down there._

"All snipers in position."

_And what about Prim?_

Coin approaches the group, flanked by cameramen. Someone quickly sets up a microphone in front of the kneeling prisoners. The soldiers shuffle around so the ones at the forefront are all wearing black.

_Of course, the Star Squad. Front and Center._ I pick out the Hawthornes, indistinguishable in their helmets and identical uniforms. I find Prim. Peeta.

Several screens line the City Center, and each flickers to life, filled with Coin's face. Through my scope, I have a blurry view of the soldiers.

"This is a monumental moment," begins Coin, "for this is the moment you are free. Regardless of whether you come from the Districts or the Capitol, you are now free of President Snow's tyranny. We will announce new laws, new procedures, and new freedoms in the coming days. Tonight, you will witness the execution of those who have long held power over you."

_Public execution. Sounds more like a warning._

Peeta is the one who steps forward, in direct violation of Haymitch's warning. The microphone quickly cuts out, and there's an exchange of words between him and Coin.

My commander's voice in my ear warns, "be prepared to shoot any threat, even if it appears to be from one of ours."

_Stop, Peeta._

Coin's microphone turns back on. "One of your Hunger Games survivors has shown grace and forgiveness that is entirely undeserved. He has requested that we give former Capitol leaders a fair trial. A trial denied to himself and hundreds of other tributes over the years." Her eyes are cold. "I am willing to grant this wish, if only to demonstrate that we are committed to do better than they have. With one exception. President Coriolanus Snow's execution will occur immediately. There is no doubt regarding his guilt or his crimes. And I feel, as do my advisors, that there is no one better to carry out this execution than someone he has previously sentenced to death." Coin pauses and looks to the Star Squad. "Primrose Everdeen will do the honors."

_She's goading Prim into saying something._ My breath comes faster, and I will my hands not to shake.

Off camera, two dark heads are on either side of Prim.

Prim stays put.

Coin leans to the side and whispers something, then one of her advisors steps forward to prod Prim toward President Snow. Through my scope, I can see her saying something, and one of the Hawthornes pulling himself to his full height.

_No. No. No. _

Coin steps back to the microphone. "Miss Everdeen, if you will."

_No. No. No. _I flash back to the moment in the forest when I killed. In self-defense, I took a life. And the impact it had on me.

Prim steps behind Snow and hoists her gun. Her firearm training is limited, and her awkward stance fills every screen in the city center. A tear slips from her eye.

The adrenaline pumping through my body seems to slow the next few seconds down.

Although she is not wearing a microphone, I can see her lips move on camera, spitting out what looks like, "I can't..."

Rage joins fear and sadness. I'm angry at Snow, at Coin, at the world for putting Prim in this position.

I watch in horror as the soldier on her left, the one who stood up to Coin gently moves Prim out of the way.

"Prepare to shoot," yells my commander over my earpiece.

When he reaches the screen, I realize it's Rory. He raises his gun, and for a moment it looks as if he isn't aiming at Snow.

_He's aiming at Coin._

"Katniss, GO!" yells the voice in my ear, knowing I have the best shot.

Rory turns his gun back to Snow and pulls the trigger. I pull mine at the same moment.

Snow crumples to the ground, dead.

And so does Coin.

Rory throws his gun to the ground and stomps into the stunned crowd of soldiers.

The City Center, full of refugees and soldiers, is silent. A frozen breeze whips over our rooftop.

"You missed," Trout says from beside me.

I stay silent.

"You never miss," she adds.

"No, I don't." I spit out, and toss my own rifle to the ground.

The war is over. Whether the soldiers believe it or not, we're done. I'm done. All I want is my sister and my husband and my friends, and for everything to stop so we can just _go home._ So I climb down the stairway of the library and walk into the crowd.

* * *

**A/N Don't worry, there's one or two more chapters left. :) And yes, I'm hoping for a happy ending (as happy as one can get in a post-apocalyptic dystopia). **

**What questions need to be answered? Loose ends you want tied up? **

**I have an epilogue semi-planned...how far in the future should it be? 5 years? 10? Or just a few months?**


	38. Epilogue

**I just want to thank everyone who has followed this story, as well as my reviewers! This has been a super fun journey for me. I decided that, instead of focusing on just one part of the epilogue, to give you a few glimpses into the 10 years after the war.**

* * *

**2 weeks**

I watch through the hovercraft window as we fly over the mountains. The trees are still winter bare. I'm not sure what awaits us below. When we were given the choice to return to 12, it seemed simple. The less time we spent in the Capitol or 13, the less likely it was that we'd be sucked into the series of trials and political posturing that was currently occurring.

Plutarch has taken the helm of the new government. Not that he's doing a bad job; in fact he's somehow managed to restore order to the Capitol, keeping everyone fed and calm. But beneath the surface there's been a mad dash for power, and it's only a matter of time before someone calls for the arrest of Coin's killer. And figures out it was me.

So when Haymitch mentioned that he could get us to District 12, I jumped at the chance. On the condition that we could bring Posy and Vick, Gale jumped with me. I wasn't surprised when Prim and Rory joined in, as they've both hated every moment of what the rebellion has become.

And to my surprise, Peeta and Haymitch (and by extension, Delly and Nick) decided almost immediately to join us. Haymitch doesn't believe that Plutarch will hold onto power for very long, so if we're going to use Plutarch's good graces, there's no time like the present.

As we land on the green of the Victors' Village, everyone holds their breath. We haven't really seen the destruction left behind by the war. Half the Victors' Village is gone. From here, we can see craters and charred remains of town.

"The Seam is pretty much gone," Haymitch remarks.

There are 3 Victors' houses still standing. Rory's, Peeta's, and Haymitch's.

The hovercraft leaves us with our few belongings and crates of supplies piled around.

"Why would they...do you think they knew whose houses those are?" Prim asks.

"Yep," says Rory as he picks up his rucksack and a crate and heads toward his house.

"They likely wanted to send a message. Make it look like we got preferential treatment and still point out that the Capitol knew where we lived," adds Peeta.

We cram into Rory's house to ride out the winter. Gale and I take Hazelle's old room. Rory in his room, Vick in his, and Prim joins Posy in the pink room.

As we sit down to breakfast the next morning, Posy informs us all, "there's no way we're living here forever."

She's right.

* * *

**2 months**

Winter finally releases its hold on what's left of District 12. Over the past weeks, people have begun trickling back in. Some stayed behind, and have come out of hiding with the end of the war. Most are previous residents; Bannock and his wife hid in a long-forgotten bunker under the school (with Sae and Ripper). Some refugees from other districts have joined us as well.

Trout is here indefinitely. She's not fully comfortable in the Capitol (although the new government seems competent), and the grief is still too thick for her to return to District 4. I'm glad to have her around. Sometimes even Rory's Victor home seems stifling and I relish the opportunity to get away from Rory's moods, Prim's tears, and the unbearable tension when they're both in the room. Trout's makeshift home in "Tent City" is a welcome retreat.

Gale and I seem to be fitting back together again, against all odds. Rory and Prim are not.

While the Capitol has sent a doctor to our District, her time is focused on treatment, not supplies. So we've been asked to open the Apothecary in a temporary building. It's a good distraction for Prim, and gives me hope that District 12 can rebuild.

Peeta and Bannock re-open the bakery, along with a small grocery. Nick helps Sae distribute supplies and rations. Hopefully by next winter we'll be self-sufficient.

Gale and I have our own plans. With the fence torn down (one of the first things we did after returning), we're no longer bound by the Capitol's boundaries. Gale and I appealed to Plutarch and Paylor (the new president) to build on land outside of District 12's borders.

Now that we've been approved, we're ready to break ground. Our house will be small, just enough for Gale, me, Prim, Posy and Vick, but it will be ours. And it will be away from Victors' Village, away from town, away from the Seam. It won't be haunted by our losses.

There are even plans to run electricity and water out to us by the end of the summer. We're still hoping to move in sooner.

We finally have what we wanted all along: hope.

* * *

**2 years**

Prim stands in my arms as the boys load her bags onto the train.

"I'm gonna miss you, Duck," I whisper to her as I remind myself, _this is why we fought_.

She nods, tears falling down her face. "Me, too," she says, taking a deep breath and looking around the district.

Prim's acceptance to medical school hadn't been a surprise for anyone. In fact, it had been the first thought in my mind when they re-opened the school a few months after the war. Prim had her application filled out before she even graduated. What had surprised me, however, was that Plutarch had called to offer Prim a scholarship, which would cover her tuition and a small apartment near the campus. That alone solved most of the problems that ran through my head. I'm not fully happy with Prim's agreement to talk about her life on camera, but I trust her judgment.

So now here we stand, Prim passing down instructions to the kids. "Posy," she says, "you've got the goats, right? Don't forget to milk them. And the chickens like it if you give them marigolds in the spring."

Posy throws her arms around Prim's neck. "You'll come back and visit, right?"

"Summer and winter breaks. Of course!"

Vick approaches Prim, and gives her a gentle hug. Within the past few months he's grown taller than her and she has to look up to talk to him. "Katniss can help you if you have problems with the ordering. And I'll ask Plutarch about pilot's school and mail you that information, OK?"

He nods down to her, swallowing hard.

Delly gives her a tearful hug as well. Prim pats Delly's now-rounded stomach and whispers something I don't catch. Delly nods and rubs her belly as well. They giggle together and look at Peeta. He joins the girls and I overhear Prim say firmly, "and when that baby is born, I want pictures!"

I swallow the lump in my throat and try not to think about everything Prim will miss. I know this is her dream, and I'd never stand in the way of her goals...but five years is a long time. As she hugs Gale, I remind myself again, _this is why we fought_. Prim is getting an opportunity I never thought she'd have.

Just as I'm about to give my sister a final hug, she looks over my shoulder with wide eyes. I'm surprised to see that Rory has come to see her off. For the past two years, their relationship has varied between strained and openly hostile. They seem to have reached a truce since she decided to go to the Capitol, but that truce seems to involve Rory spending a lot of time with Haymitch and his bottles.

Prim tentatively hugs Rory around the waist, and he pats her back a few times. "Watch out for the kids," she says sternly as she turns back to me.

I hold her again, reminding myself that she'll be back in December. Probably full of stories of people from other districts and all the things she's learning in school. _This is why we fought_, I remind myself.

After a quick hug and "thank you" for Gale, Prim boards the train, the late-summer sun glinting off the train doors. From the window, she waves at us. _This is why we fought_, I think again. Years of planning, nightmares...countless deaths and sacrifices...we lost our parents. Madge. We've all be damaged, and some days I wonder if it's beyond repair.

I look at Rory leaning against a tree. Lots of days I wonder. I know he (like Peeta, and so many others) talks to a psychiatrist on a regular basis. He's alone up in the big house on Victors' Green. New houses have sprung up around him, Haymitch and Peeta. Some small, some large. But I still feel as if the Victors (he and Haymitch in particular) live in their own little world. Peeta at least has Delly, but I'm always amazed that none of the three have moved from their houses.

As the train blares its whistle, Gale wraps his arms around me. I lean back into his embrace. We're lucky that Posy and Vick are independent and helpful. Without Prim around to help us run the Apothecary, care for the animals, weed the garden and keep an eye on things while we're hunting, our plates are pretty full.

But we're content, because for the first time anyone can remember, it seems to mean something. Children go to bed with full stomachs. No one is stuck working in dangerous conditions. And kids like Prim get the education they've always wanted.

"This is why we fought, Catnip," Gale says into my hair, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist.

* * *

**5 years**

I gaze down at the bundle in my arms, trying to wrap my mind around the past 9 months. After all our arguing about having a baby, discussions about the best timing, concern about the world we live in, it's almost anticlimactic. We hadn't chosen, hadn't thought it through, it just _happened_. And I'd spent the past months vacillating between joy (mostly at Gale's excitement) and non-stop anxiety.

Luckily, Prim was able to make it home for the birth. She's still at my side day and night, fussing over her niece, checking my blood pressure and coaxing Posy and Vick into keeping the house in order. The Capitol doctor assigned to District 12 hasn't been my favorite person over the past months, so I'm grateful that my sister is home for awhile.

As the first weeks of parenthood slip past us, Gale and I fall into a new routine. We take turns waking up with little Lily Hazelle, take turn changing diapers, and we're so distracted I almost don't notice the subtle shift in Rory and Prim's relationship.

At first, I figured he was just excited about being an uncle, and that's why he came by so often. After all, when Delly had given birth to Rye (named after Peeta's dad, of course), it seemed to awaken a new side of Rory, and his rough edges seemed to be smoothing out a bit. In the past years he's spent less time with Haymitch and more time helping out around town. He's taken up jogging, comes hunting, and has even started helping out at the bakery and Sae's.

But the looks the two are sharing...I feel like they're 12 years old again.

As I feed Lily, I hear voices from the porch. At first I'm startled (it's 3am, after all), but when I recognize the gentle cadence of Prim's voice, I allow myself to listen in.

"I miss this. A lot. I might ask to move back after I finish. District 12 needs another doctor, and I hate being away. Look at Posy; she's practically grown up. And little Lily is going to get big so fast..."

I hear the creak of the porch swing as it begins swaying. The summer night is only broken by the sound of crickets.

Rory finally speaks. "Do you...Prim...do you think there's a chance for us? After everything?"

The silence is heavy.

"I mean..." he continues, "I never really said I was sorry. I was just so wrapped up in being angry, wanting it all to be over."

"I never blamed you, not really," says Prim. "I was just so...I loved you, and you weren't the person I thought I loved, and I know _now_ that it wasn't you. It was the war, and Snow and Coin and we were so young..."

"Loved? Past tense?"

"I don't really know."

The baby picks that moment to start whining again.

"I should go help my sister," Prim says, and the swing creaks again.

Just as her footsteps reach the door, Rory quietly says, "Prim?"

"Yes, Rory?"

"Please come back. Do what you need to do...finish school. But please come back."

When she comes inside, her eyes are damp.

* * *

**10 years**

The ceremony is beautiful, even if it's bittersweet. Our lives have been tinged by loss for so long that it's almost comforting to think of everyone who's not here. My parents. Rory's parents. Rory and Prim chose to have their wedding in the memorial garden at the center of town. It's picturesque, with the low stone walls and beds of flowers.

Prim is picturesque as well. Her long blonde hair curls perfectly over her shoulders, and her blue eyes dance with happy tears. She says her vows to Rory with confidence. His voice shakes a bit as he talks, as if he can't believe this is really happening.

They toast bread over an open campfire, to the cheers of everyone in attendance. And it's a large crowd. Many of the living Victors came in on the train, and 12's little inn is overflowing.

As the evening wears on, I find myself sitting at the edge of the crowd, holding my son. At only 2, Hunter couldn't stay awake.

Soon Peeta joins me, holding his own sleeping 2-year-old. We watch as Rye (Peeta's oldest) and Lily dance together, giggling in the carefree way that kids do. Gale and Posy soon join them, leading the group in some sort of repetitive dance they saw on TV.

"He's got a crush on her," Peeta says, nodding to Rye. Rye follows Lily around like a lost puppy. Lily's not much different; every Saturday she wakes me before dawn so she can go play at Peeta and Delly's while we hunt.

"It's crazy how things turn out, isn't it? If you'd told me 10, 12 years ago whether we'd be sitting here now, I'd have thought you were nuts. I didn't think we'd survive this long, let alone have kids and things."

"Remember when you told me you'd never do this? Get married? Have kids?"

"I told Gale the same thing...apparently you're a better listener."

"But aren't you glad he didn't listen?" I smile back at Peeta's question.

"Of course I'm glad he didn't listen." For as much as I resisted this, I couldn't imagine my life without Gale, Lily and Hunter.

Rye and Lily start a game of tag. All we can see over the wall is his curly blond head and her dark braids flying.

Peeta continues, "so do you think those two will be the ones that finally figure it out? I mean, my dad and your mom, you and me..."

Peeta's cheeks are rosy. He's been into the wine tonight.

"Are you unhappy with how things turned out? You and Delly have 3 and a half kids now. From my vantage point, you seem pretty happy," I tease him. "I believe Vick says you two are 'like bunnies.'"

"Not unhappy at all...I'm glad things worked out how they did. I just think it's funny that history repeats itself."

"I hope not," I reply. Gale sits down beside me. I lean my head on his shoulder and he kisses my head. I look at the sleeping boy in my arms. "I hope they never have to go through what we've been through."

"That's why we fought, Catnip. So they don't have to."

Peeta nods in agreement.

And so, with my children happy and safe, and my husband and best friend beside me, we enjoy Prim and Rory's wedding. Whatever comes after this, we can face together.

* * *

**At some point, I hope to go back and edit this. I'll add an additional chapter at that time, so feel free to keep following this story. I'm working on another story at this point, so it may be awhile. Please tell me what you thought!**


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